


Always Thought My Heart to Be a Dark Horse

by evrybodysdarlin



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Consent Issues, Eventual Smut, Future Mpreg, M/M, commitment issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-01-05 18:58:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1097489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evrybodysdarlin/pseuds/evrybodysdarlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Newton Geiszler is an Omega who has successfully disguised himself as a Beta for his entire adult life so that he can participate in the PPDC. </p><p>Hannibal Chau is an Alpha who has promised that he will never weaken himself by bonding with an Omega.</p><p>When these two strangers meet, how will their fates be changed?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: The steps I could retrace

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for the entire fic--This is an A/B/O fic, where people can have "soulmates" that they are overwhelmingly attracted to, and where the bonds between Alphas and Omegas are very strong and can override people's logical desires and plans. Even though there are no scenes of sexual assault, abuse, harassment, etc., this does create big **consent issues** in the universe. So I want to give a **Trigger Warning** for **Dub-Con or Non-Con due to A/B/O dynamics**. There will also be angst, smut, lots of swearing, and some scary situations/possible violence in the future.
> 
> Warning also for **Mpreg** , in case that's not your thing. It will not be graphic, gross, or kinky, but there will be some male people getting pregnant in this fic eventually.
> 
> I owe what I've achieved so far with this fic to my beta, **teatimechai**. She has helped me so much! **ConfusedKayt** also read over this for me, and I loved her feedback!
> 
> This fic was inspired by a prompt by laidbacktionist on pacificrimkink, which I would link to if LJ did not seem to be down at the moment.
> 
> The story title and chapter titles are all from various songs that were featured on Welcome to Night Vale, because why not?
> 
> Please follow me at evrybodysdarlin on Tumblr if you like my work!

Newt never had any difficulty identifying his one worst memory related to his Omega status.

He had a few bad ones. The time in middle school that an Alpha bully slammed him up against a wall and he got a boner instead of fighting back. The time when he was a teenager and his uncle walked in on him jerking off to an extremely X-rated "Alpha knots Omega" scene. The first time he went into heat and his Beta dad had to go rent a book from the library to explain his "changing body" to him. That had been an awkward conversation.

But the worst moment of all was the day he was reading a science magazine and saw an ad asking for college interns for a university biology expedition to Micronesia...and the requirements said "Alphas and Betas only, please."

Newt was 16 when he saw that ad. He was already determined to be a scientist--also a general adventurer, and possibly a rock star.

A surprising amount of awesome activities had requirements like that. Archaeological digs. Summer camps. The military. Not that he wanted to join the military, but still.

They always cloaked it with concern for the Omegas. They were afraid that the Alphas wouldn't be able to control themselves around the pheromones, they said, or that competition over the Omegas would cause dissension in the ranks. Omegas didn't show interest in the programs, they said, because they were too busy with their Alphas and their children. Plus, Omegas tended to be smaller, less muscular, and rougher conditions were hard on them, and sometimes they got pregnant... the excuses went on and on.

When Newt saw those words that meant he could never be all that he wanted to be, never go all of the places that he already knew he longed to go, he snapped.

That was the night he barged into his dad's room and told him that he was going on heat suppressants and that he was going to enroll in college as a Beta, and they were going to go along with it.

Dad looked a little scared. But he said okay.

And Newt never looked back.

*****

Hannibal's mother was an Omega. The stereotypical Omega, little and sweet, soft-spoken. She had five children and stayed home while her Alpha husband worked all day, running his own company.

His father was an Alpha, tall and hulking, with a loud voice and a fearless grin. He entered the house like a thunderclap every night, and the whole family gathered around him.

Hannibal grew up going to his mother when he was hurt, or when he was sad, or when he wanted to talk. She was the only one that he let hug him, the one whose quiet voice could cut through any fit of temper or bad mood.

But he grew up wanting to _be_ his father. He was the oldest son, and an Alpha, and he just knew that he would grow up and be like his dad, successful and bold, with his own Omega someday. He never doubted it. Never doubted himself.

It all changed when his mother got sick. 

She faded quickly, cancer that metastasized through her body faster than the best medical treatments could catch it, and on the night she died, Hannibal saw what being an Alpha bonded to an Omega really meant.

He saw his father fall down on the floor in the hospital, gasping like it was his oxygen line that had gone slack, crying in front of everyone, holding onto her hand like he didn't understand. Accidentally squeezing too hard until her faded skin bruised black.

Hannibal tried to comfort him, awkward as he was with feelings and all that, but his dad shoved him away. 

"I was supposed to take care of her," he roared, the familiar thunder turned into a terrifying storm. "She was mine!"

It took three doctors to pull him out of the room. And the man who came back from the hospital wasn't anything like the man they'd known before.

The rest of Hannibal's childhood passed in a haze. His dad went to work, put food on the table, bought the children what they needed, but there was no more mother to talk to, and what kindness and gentleness had ever been in his father was gone. He had a thousand-yard stare, like someone who'd been on the wrong side of a war. Without his Omega, he was broken.

Hannibal left home as fast as he could, rejecting his father's offer of a job or college, rejecting his father's money, and made his own way as fast as he could, any way he could. No matter how dirty or bloody that way was.

He still wanted to be successful, and he was still bold. But he wouldn't be like his father. Because he wouldn't ever make himself weak and broken like that. It was better to be alone.


	2. How do you do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first proper chapter. It presents a slightly altered view of the movie events. I have six chapters so far, and I'm hoping that feedback will inspire me to keep writing and updating more!
> 
> TW for this chapter--ableist insults that were in the movie itself.

The first time the big man in the dark red suit looked at him, Dr. Newton Geiszler was deadly afraid that his own special cocktail of hormone suppressants and pheromone blockers had failed him.

For one thing, even through the dark glasses, Newt could tell the man was looking at him with interest, and Alphas didn't usually pay much attention to nerdy little supposed Betas with no distinguishing smell. For another, despite his excellent suppressants that were supposed to keep him at an even keel to avoid any heat cycles, Newt felt himself grow literally weak in the knees the moment he saw the man. Then he was flooded with his delicious Alpha scent, which was hovering just below the smell of expensive aftershave.

His suppressants usually kept Newt from being overwhelmingly attracted to anyone, even though he could still get faint hints of scents or fleeting moments of attraction. But as soon as he stepped close to this guy, it was like being a confused teenage Omega all over again for a minute. He had to consciously press his feet into the floor to keep from stepping closer and rubbing up against him, and it was difficult to look calm, composed, and somewhat tough in this weird gangster's paradise when he could feel himself getting wet right in front of the man.

Newt had been about to throw out a badass opening line, or to just ask him more about the kaiju skin lice, but his words seemed to be stuck in his mouth, so he stood there silently. The big man just looked Newt up and down a few times, then started firing off questions. Newt tried to be cool, but that was very hard to do when not only were you suffering from unwanted temporary nymphomania, but you also had a knife up your nose. That was when Newt found out that the big man who was currently terrifying and arousing him was the Hannibal Chau he had been trying to find.

And didn't that just make this all even _more_ awkward.

Newt managed to pull himself together enough to answer Hannibal's questions, and then ask to speak to him in private...but the moment the words left his mouth, they sounded dirty and suggestive, and he started wishing that he had tattoos on his face, too, to hide the fact that he was probably blushing.

Hannibal actually did take him somewhere private, with a bonus view of the Kowloon Boneslums, which was surprisingly romantic. Newt had to use all of his considerable mental power to get his mouth to form coherent words and ask, somewhat bluntly, for a kaiju brain. Most of his brain cells seemed to be busy imagining what it would be like if Hannibal bent him over and and took him on the balcony, big fingers stroking his throat as he thrust, feeling his knot swell...

His brain was being so stereotypically Omega right then. He hated that.

But he held it together until he made his extremely foolish and spontaneous kaiju remains exclusivity deal with Hannibal and shook his hand. The moment their skin touched, Newt felt himself shiver. He grabbed onto the railing to hold himself steady.

At that moment, Hannibal leaned into his space shamelessly and openly sniffed the air closest to Newt's throat.

"Are you a Beta, kid?" Hannibal asked.

*****

Hannibal couldn't quite get a handle on this Geiszler guy.

The first thing Hannibal noticed, of course, was that he was a cute little motherfucker. Short and compact and feisty, with tight pants that he certainly didn't mind seeing. And he could swear, from the moony way that the kid was looking at him, that he was checking him out, too.

But Hannibal got confused when he got close enough to smell the younger man. His small size and the misty way he was looking up at him said Omega, but the man didn't smell like...anything. Betas didn't have any special pheromones to attract mates the way Alphas and Omegas did, but they usually still had an identifying personal scent that Hannibal could pick up. This guy, though, didn't smell like anything but cheap aftershave. It was a little uncanny.

Luckily, Hannibal's long life and many dangerous experiences had given him good control over his own reactions. He suppressed his attraction and curiosity, and got down to the business of intimidating this runt and finding out why, exactly, he had come calling.

He must be going senile in his old age or something, because when he pressed his knife to Geiszler's nostril and saw the man's face draw up in fear, he got this momentary urge to step in front of him, protect him, even though he was the one attacking. Seeing him shrink back was almost sickening, and Hannibal lowered the knife a lot more quickly than he normally would have once Geiszler blurted out that Pentecost sent him. Intimidating this little guy just wasn't that fun, for some reason.

When Hannibal took Geiszler (Newt, as he asked to be called) into his private room, he toned his intimidation down. Well, toned it down a little. He couldn't help the fact that he was scary. But he leaned back on the railing, his body language relaxed, showing Newt that he was listening, even though he wasn't necessarily going to agree to everything that the PPDC wanted. Even if the messenger they chose to send was somewhat fuckable.

Once they'd shaken on their deal, Hannibal let his curiosity get the better of him and asked what he'd been wondering. "Are you a Beta, kid?"

The scientist blushed (and wasn't that a pretty sight--he'd have to embarrass him some more if he ever saw him again). "Yes."

"You smell kind of funny." Hannibal didn't realize how rude that sounded until it came out. He mentally shrugged. He wasn't known for his tact. People with money didn't have to be polite.

Newt pierced him with a half-amused glare and snorted. "Gee, thanks."

"Not funny-bad. Just different." Hannibal tried to get another sniff, without being obvious about it, then smiled. "You ever been with an Alpha, baby?"

There were the misty eyes again. Fuck, those eyes. He'd never had a Beta look at him that way. All sweet and...open. Newt leaned up to him like he was pulled by a magnet, and the feeling was mutual. Hannibal leaned down a little, drawing closer. 

The closeness brought the red, bloody line in Newt's iris into focus.

"Why the hell did you want this lower brain, anyway, kid?" Hannibal asked cautiously.

"Well, that's classified," Newt said, his voice sounding a little rough. "So I couldn't tell you, even if I wanted to." He paused. "But, it is _pretty_ cool."

His face was still tipped up to Hannibal's, all sweet and waiting, and Hannibal wanted to lean down into it, but he had a pit of horror growing in his stomach as Newt continued to babble. "So I might tell you." He was still looking up at Hannibal with those dreamy, bloodshot eyes. "Okay, I'm gonna tell you."

He leaned closer to Hannibal and whispered in his ear, like there was someone else around who could overhear. "I've worked out the parameters to Drift with a kaiju."

The haze Hannibal had been caught in since the kid had walked through his door was immediately broken by that one sentence. He was overwhelmed with disbelief and--loath as he was to admit it--fear. His least favorite feeling.

"You goddamn moron!" he cried, and as he did, the kaiju attack alarms began to sound across the city.


	3. Fought the urge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Hannibal take a ride to Otachi's corpse and have some conversation.
> 
> No special warnings for this chapter.
> 
> Remember--follow me at evrybodysdarlin on Tumblr!

A few hours later, Newt was in Hannibal Chau's car, rushing toward the fallen corpse of Otachi. He was filthy and possibly traumatized, his glasses were pretty much smashed, and he was pouting--in a dignified and mature way, of course. He sat there with his lips pressed together in a line, trying to telegraph the sentiment "I'm judging you" across the backseat toward Hannibal.

"What's your problem, kid?" Hannibal asked, ruining his passive-agression with overt verbal discussion. "I can feel you giving me the stink-eye."

"Well, I was just thinking about if I should apologize for the whole 'one-eyed bitch' thing, but then I remembered that you left me to _die_ , sooo..." 

"You were literally a kaiju magnet at the time. Excuse me for not having a death wish. I'm keeping my deal with you now, aren't I? Let's say we're square."

Newt let out a noise like "Hmmph." There was no actual word in English that properly conveyed his disdain; also, even though he hated to admit it, he really didn't have a good argument. Hannibal's summary of the situation was pretty accurate.

"Listen." Hannibal reached across the spacious backseat and grabbed Newt's arm, a little roughly, and his fingers brushed Newt's wrist. Newt looked over at him reluctantly, trying to supress the little shudder that ran over him from the skin-to-skin contact. "Would you honestly do any different? If a Cat-4 was chasing some guy down, you'd just invite him over for tea? Bullshit."

"I don't know." Ugh, those were his least favorite words to say. "I guess not."

"So like I said, we're square. I'm bringing you to get your damn kaiju brain now, aren't I? Letting you ride with me, even though you're getting my upholstery dirty."

"Hey, you wouldn't look so good if you'd had my night, buddy. Hope that silk pimp suit's washable."

"I've got others." Hannibal grinned, showing all of his gold teeth, and Newt rolled his eyes and tried to hold back his own smirk at the display.

The car went around a sharp turn, a little too quickly for comfort, causing Newt to question the driving skills of Hannibal's henchman as he slid across the backseat a little and bump into Hannibal's big shoulder. The proximity flooded Newt with the man's scent, all Alpha, and Newt instinctively tilted his head back, baring his throat a little as he breathed it in. He didn't understand what it was about this guy. He was kind of old, pretty much a jerk, and definitely a bad dresser, but his warmth and his bulk and his skin were driving Newt _crazy_ , in the best and worst way possible.

Newt had been masquerading as a Beta and suppressing his heats for so long that sometimes even he forgot his little secret. He'd built a career and a life surrounded by people who thought he was a capable adult instead of a walking hormone bomb, and he'd come to be pretty bold and fearless in most situations. Getting so flustered by an Alpha was like getting slapped in the face, a harsh reminder of his own weakness. He knew being an Omega wasn't weak, wasn't something to be ashamed of, but that didn't change how he felt, didn't change his embarrassment and discomfort nor the anger that they provoked as he felt the warmth and _need_ running over his skin.

"You okay, kid?" Hannibal asked. The rumbled question made Newt snap out of his thoughts as he realized that he was staring, silent at that.

"Yeah, fine." He awkwardly cleared his throat and scooted back toward his own seat. If he got out of this car without embarrassing himself further, he was running back to his lab and never coming out.

*****

Hannibal pretty much considered himself immune to guilt at this point in his life. He kept his word and he didn't hurt anyone unless it was strictly necessary, which was more than most guys he knew could say. Those were his codes, and any obligations or feelings beyond those basic ideas were irrelevant.

So why was he fighting the urge to smooth things over with this Geiszler kid? It wasn't like he needed anything from him beyond the PPDC's cooperation, which was already promised, so why did it irk him that Newt was sitting in his car so visibly pissed off? He was getting irritated at himself for caring what the runt thought of him, creating a feedback loop of annoyance that continued until he gave into his impulse and asked Newt why, exactly, he was shooting him a death glare.

Once they got talking, fortunately, it was actually pretty easy to smooth things over. The kid wasn't self-righteous enough to act like he wouldn't run from a kaiju on a mission. Hell, he'd apparently drawn Otachi's wrath down onto a whole public shelter before the Jaeger came in. Hannibal just hoped that the robot hadn't damaged any of his merchandise too badly.

When the driver took a corner too quickly, the atmosphere in the car changed, as Geiszler went sliding across the backseat and bumped into him, before jerking away like he'd been burned. The proximity reminded Hannibal of the thoughts he'd been pursuing before they were all running for their lives--the kid was cute. 

He'd been with his share of Betas, but he'd never felt such immediate attraction to one. He kind of considered the whole sex thing a treat to indulge in now and then, like Cuban cigars or whiskey--something to help him unwind. It didn't feel like a _need_ with them. He'd only felt that strong of a pull toward Omegas, and whenever he'd felt it, he'd gotten out of the situation as quickly as possible. 

What made Newt Geiszler different? He was cute, but he wasn't a looker or anything. There was just something about his compact body, clever face, and the big eyes hidden behind those ridiculous glasses that magnified them even more. Even though he'd just pulled away from Hannibal like he had the plague, he could swear that Geiszler felt it, too. Back at headquarters, he'd looked ready to melt into his arms, before they'd been interrupted by the whole kaiju attack thing.

Newt was pressed up against his door, as far from Hannibal as he could get. It made him a little offended, honestly. "You okay?" Hannibal asked.

"Yeah, fine," Newt huffed. 

"I don't have cooties, you know." Newt looked over his shoulder, looking cautious, like a scared deer, and was it wrong that his nervous look kind of turned him on? "You can sit a little closer."

"Are you hitting on me after almost letting me die?" Newt snapped as his pissy face returned.

"Hey, mea culpa. You didn't _actually_ die." Hannibal looked him up and down, letting Newt see his eyes wander, shameless. "I'd even let you get my suit dirty."

Newt had his mouth open, like he was about to answer, but then they stopped driving, and Newt jumped out of his door like the whole car was on fire. 

"Is that a no?" Hannibal asked as he climbed out at a more leisurely pace. He frowned. It was a little unflattering to have such an open offer ignored. 

"I'll talk to you about our social engagements after you get me my kaiju brain." Newt raised his eyebrows, all sass, and Hannibal rolled his eyes and smirked at the showboating. Definitely not a no.

"Fine. Let's get going," Hannibal conceded.

Otachi's corpse kept both of them busy for a while. Hannibal had to supervise his guys as they gathered and preserved all of the kaiju's precious parts, and Newt occupied himself by following Hannibal around and constantly nagging him about how fast they could excise the secondary brain.

Finally, the workers inside the massive corpse were nearing the secondary brain's location, down near the kaiju's hips. Just as they approached the pelvic area, the sound of a heartbeat echoed out through the walkie-talkies that all the men carried.

There was a moment of confused silence, then Newt spoke. "Oh my God. It can't be." He grabbed Hannibal's walkie-talkie, pulling it closer. "It's _pregnant_."

That was the moment the fetus burst out through Otachi's mangled skin. Hannibal was moving before he consciously registered what was happening, pushing a stumbling Newt in front of him as they both tore away from the wriggling monster. The pavement was slick with kaiju blue and cracked by the impact of Otachi's fall, and they slid and stumbled as they ran. Finally, after a heart-stopping few moments, the fetus was strangled by its umbilical cord, gasping and slavering as it stopped moving at last.

"You okay, kid?" Hannibal asked as they stopped a safe distance from the baby's maw. 

"Fine. Other than being scared shitless." Newt's tight jeans were more ripped up than ever, and fresh sweat gleamed on his forehead. Hannibal had to fight back the urge to lean closer sniff it, see if he was still as eerily scentless as he had been before.

Hannibal looked at the fetus that had just robbed him of his dignity and snarled. He threw his blade at it, a useless gesture, but a satisfying one. He enjoyed the meaty sound of its impact as it sank into the kaiju's massive muzzle.

"Ugly little bastard," Hannibal commented. Newt let out a nervous half-laugh as Hannibal stepped closer to retrieve his balisong. 

Then the kaiju's mouth was opening, gaping, and Hannibal was violently pulled into a pit of utter darkness.


	4. Every now and then, I do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt wakes up from a bad hangover and has a shocking realization. Hannibal recovers from his injuries and thinks about his next move.
> 
> Only special warning for this chapter is a bit of common ableist language.
> 
> Many thanks to my beta, teatimechai!
> 
> Remember--follow me on Tumblr at evrybodysdarlin!

Newt wasn't used to waking up with someone's arms around him.

He was even less used to waking up next to Hermann Gottlieb.

Newt quickly sat up, inadvertently jolting Hermann's arm off of him as he did. He looked around the room where he found himself and saw that it was the lab, and that they had been sleeping on the floor under his specimen table. Newt's observations were cut off by the _pounding_ headache that seemed to be making his skull vibrate. He suddenly recognized his headache as a classic hangover, and then he remembered why he had drunk enough alcohol to make his head explode.

The world was saved. And he and Hermann had done it.

Well, they had helped.

Newt sighed happily and flopped down onto his back again, staring up at the underside of the table. They were safe. And they were rock stars.

Though as Hermann began to stir, Newt realized the unfortunate side effect of their Drift.

Hermann most likely knew his secret.

They hadn't had a moment to themselves since the Drift. They'd gone right from Baby Otachi's corpse to the PPDC, and then had plunged straight into a massive party. Newt couldn't even remember how they'd ended up in the lab-- _spooning_ , no less. How crappy was it that Hermann had just cuddled him and he couldn't even make fun of him about it? Right now, the goal was less to annoy Hermann, and more to escape before he woke up and probably brought up the whole "Hey, you're an Omega" thing.

Newt rolled over, ready to army crawl out from under the table and escape back to his own room, but then Hermann's bony hand landed on his arm and caught him.

"Newton...were we just cuddling?" Hermann stammered out.

"Yes. It was magical. Now I'm going to my room." Newt tried to wriggle out from Hermann's grasp, but Hermann wouldn't let go.

"Don't you think we have something to discuss?"

"Nah, I'm good." Newt redoubled his efforts to crawl away. He was even willing to sacrifice his ruined white button-down.

"Newton...am I the only one who knows you're an Omega?"

"Shit, don't say it so loud, dude!" Newt snapped. He gave up on trying to escape and rolled back under the table, glaring up into Hermann's sleepy face.

"So I take it that I am, indeed, the only one?"

"Yes. Do you really think I'd still be working here at the base if you weren't? I've been passing as a Beta since college."

Hermann did his thoughtful frown. "I thought that Pentecost might have made an exception. You know he did for Chuck Hansen. He's a very reasonable man."

"People make exceptions for pilot teams because they're in demand and all special. No one makes exceptions for a lab rat." Newt sighed and covered his eyes. It was too early, and he was too hungover, for them to discuss his least favorite soapbox issue ever.

"We both know that you're far more than a lab rat, Newton. In fact, I believe that you told me last night that you were a 'hero' and a 'fucking rock star'?" Newt snorted at the unusual spectacle of Hermann cursing. "Your work is well worth making an exception. Really, though, I believe that the anti-Omega policy should never have been put in place at all."

"I know, right?" The loud, squeaky tone that his voice took on worsened his own headache. "It's like they think that no one can control themselves around us. I mean, hello, heat suppressants, anti-pheromone products, or else, I dunno, Alphas actually taking responsibility for their behavior? And even if the presence of Omegas causes issues, is it really worth completely ruling out 18% of the population?"

"I completely agree. So that's how you've been hiding it, then? Anti-pheromone products?"

"I actually developed my own early on. You take them by mouth instead of using them topically, and they're way more effective. I've considered applying for a patent if I ever, you know, come out of hiding." As Newt spoke the words, his stomach began to churn. The sickening horror that came over him turned his hangover into panic, and he leaned out from under their cozy table-shelter and vomited all over the floor.

"Newton! Are you all right?" Newt felt Hermann tentatively touch his shoulder. 

"Four days," Newt gagged.

"What?"

"It's been four days since I took my medicine, Hermann. My heat suppressants, and my pheromone masking drug, everything. Shit! Shit!" He dry-heaved, barely keeping back another wave of sickness.

"Does missing that many doses render the drugs ineffective?"

"It's hard to say." Newt laid his head down on his arm. "I've never missed them for so many days in a row. I was working so hard on the Pons system, then the drifting, and I went to see Hannibal Chau...shit, I wonder if that was why I wanted to jump his bones so badly.”

"What?" Hermann's tone of disgust would have been hilarious if Newt were in the mood to enjoy it. 

"I was practically humping the dude who gave me the Kaiju brain. I wonder if it was because I skipped my meds? But there's no way I'm going into heat yet, even if I've missed so many pills...how do I smell to you, Hermann?"

"Like vomit."

"No, I mean, aside from the puke. Do I smell sexy?"

"Newton, I'm a Beta. We aren't governed by our noses like the rest of you. Thank God."

"Please, dude, c'mon, smell me a little."

Hermann reluctantly leaned closer and sniffed Newt's neck. "Your smell is within normal parameters, I suppose."

Newt jolted in surprise as he felt something suddenly vibrate against his ass. "Whoa! What was that?"

"Oh, my cell phone." Hermann seemed rather undisturbed by the proximity of his front pocket to Newt's backside. Maybe they really were friends now. 

_"Scheiße_!" he barked out. Second Hermann cursing episode of the day. Cursing in German still counted.

"What is it?" 

"Vanessa has called me six times! What if the baby's coming early or something's gone wrong? I let her know that I was safe after the Breach closed, but then I did get rather sloshed...I can't believe I was passed out with you while she tried to reach me! " Hermann winced as he awkwardly climbed out from under the table that Newt had began to regard as their new home. "I've got to call her back."

"You do that. And Hermann, listen..."

"What?"

"You're not going to tell anyone, are you?"

Hermann paused to flash his crooked smile. "I assumed that it went without saying. Your secret is safe with me."

"Even when I leave kaiju guts on your side of the lab?"

"Even then. I'll find other ways to seek my inevitable revenge."

"Thanks, pal." Newt found himself smiling even as he slowly stopped hyperventilating.

"You're welcome. Now clean yourself up, you look disgusting." Hermann walked off, leaning on his cane and daintily stepping around Newt's puddle of sick.

Newt dragged himself out from under the table, making a mental note to clean up his vomit later. He didn't think he could handle it right now.

He rushed to his room, hustling along as though a few extra seconds would make a difference when he'd skipped his meds for _four fucking days_. Newt's stomach churned again at the idea of going through a heat. He hadn't gone into heat since he was in college.

Heats as an unmated Omega were miserable, but as an Omega-in-hiding they were unbearable. He had to stay away from everyone, lock himself up in his room, and try futilely to please himself with his fingers and toys. The last time he'd had a heat, he'd ended up sobbing on his bed, wishing for someone who wasn't there, someone he didn't even know. His Alpha. 

When Newt got to his room, he took a double dose of each of his meds and wished that he believed in God so he could pray that they would keep working.

*****

Hannibal wasn't used to being laid up. Honestly, he hated it. Even though he was doing pretty well for someone who had been swallowed by a kaiju, his doctor had still recommended that he stay in bed for a few days. He had superficial acid burns on his skin, especially on his face and hands, and he had deep bruises ringing his waist at the spots where Baby Otachi's blunt, massive teeth had grasped him. There was even some internal bleeding that had required a shallow inscision and a few stitches. Now he was red, blotchy, sore, and ticked off, and Fang was late with his daily report.

Hannibal sighed as he checked his pocket watch again. Fang was usually disgustingly punctual and reliable. When he knew he'd be out of commission for a few days, he'd immediately delegated his supervisory duties to her. Most people who met his gang thought that one of his muscle guys was his second-in-command, but once they saw how the crew worked, they realized that it was Fang. She was one of the few employees that he implicitly trusted out of his sight. She was an Alpha, like him, but there was no question of her trying to fight for rank. She'd been working for him for thirteen years and was doggedly, almost frighteningly, loyal. 

Fang finally entered the room, rushing in with a file of papers under her arm. She must have freshly buzzed her hair, because it looked shorter than ever, starkly displaying her pretty, strong-jawed face.

"About time." Hannibal frowned as she strode across the room to reach his bedside.

"Sorry, Boss. I was on a phone call." He'd never asked Fang to call him "Boss," but she'd never addressed him any other way.

"I hope you have some good news to tell me. I could use it."

Fang opened her file and held it out toward him. "Everything's going as we expected. Prices have doubled since the Breach was closed. I've made up a list of offers for all of Otachi's biggest parts. I already crossed out the lowball ones."

Hannibal smirked at the sound of Fang's accented voice saying "lowball." She'd spoken decent English when she first started working for him, but she'd picked up a lot of interesting slang from him. At this point, she spoke a pretty aggressive brand of English.

"Is the demand going up, too? A lot of offers from new clients?" 

"Yes, a lot. Tsui and Smith are working on vetting all of the people inquiring."

"When do you think it'll be time to break into our reserves?" Hannibal asked. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then winced at the feeling against his still-raw skin. 

"Not yet. But soon."

Hannibal had known that someday the constant flow of kaiju crossing the Breach would stop, possibly before the world and its population were completely destroyed. He had cryogenically frozen and stored a portion of the most valuable organs from some of the kaiju that had surfaced. Once he was out of fresh parts from the five most recent specimens, he would still have more to supply for his very demanding clients.

"Do you have any new thoughts on exit strategy, Boss?" Fang asked.

Hannibal sighed. "We don't talk about exit strategy unless I bring it up first, Fang. Makes me feel old. Besides, as far as most of the world is concerned, I'm fucking immortal."

Fang laughed, showing her sharp-edged smile. "I know. You should hear the gossip that's going around the streets about you. The man who survived being eaten by a kaiju."

Hannibal grinned. That was the kind of thing he liked to hear. "Eh, you know. Just a newborn one."

"I'm glad that you made it out, Boss. Really."

Hannibal looked at Fang appraisingly. She was loyal, but she wasn't usually one for kind words unless she wanted something. "Are you about to ask me for a favor?"

Fang sighed, rolling her kohl-rimmed eyes. "Yes. Just a little one. I need some time off next week. Possibly all of next week."

"Why? Business is booming, Fang, why would you want to take off now? What could be more important?"

"If I tell you, don't get on my ass about it, okay?" she began defensively. 

Hannibal crossed his arms across his chest, shifting uncomfortably as the motion stretched his stitches. "Fine. Spit it out."

Fang sat down on the edge of his bed, took a deep breath, and began. "My girl's due to go into heat next week, and she wants me to spend it with her." Fang rushed the words out, then grinned, looking partly lascivious and partly disgustingly giddy. 

"Your 'girl'?"

"You know, my Omega that I've been seeing?" Fang sounded a little hurt that he wasn't keeping up with her dating life. Hannibal racked his memory for a moment.

"The one from the karaoke bar?"

"That's where she works, yes. We've been going out almost every night. She asked me last night if I'd stay with her while she's in heat. She wants me to mark her." Fang's smile was definitely trending toward sappy now. 

Hannibal huffed. "You sure you're ready for that?" A marking bond wasn't as legally binding as marriage, but it was a commitment, and thanks to hormones, it was even harder to break. The moment when an Alpha knotted an Omega in heat and marked the Omega's neck with a bite released a cascade of bonding hormones and dopamine that made a regular orgasm pale in comparison. The mating mark on the Omega's neck also served as a warning to everyone around that the Omega was bonded and off the market. 

"Of course I'm ready. She's wonderful. We're perfect together."

Hannibal rolled his eyes. He'd never heard Fang use so many positive words in a row. "Please tell me you aren't buying into all that 'true mate' bullshit, Fang."

"I'm not saying she's my soulmate. The feelings didn't happen all at once. It took us time to get to know each other. I just know that we belong together now." Fang raised her dark, arched eyebrows, displaying her fighting face that Hannibal knew so well. "Do you really think that true mates are bullshit, though? That no one knows right away when they meet the person who's right for them?"

"There have been studies showing that all of those mushy feelings are just based on genetic compatibility, you know. Who would make the best babies. DNA, real romantic. It doesn't have anything to do with love."

"That doesn't matter to people who meet their soulmates. Their mate's scent is irresistible. If they're separated from them, they're literally traumatized. You think that's nothing?" Fang's voice was getting dangerously low as she spoke. 

Hannibal bristled at the slight growl in her voice. "I don't think anything, except that I hope that shit never happens to me. I like living my life without being ruled by my knot, thank you."

"Like you don't think about your knot. Bullshit!" Hannibal regretted ever teaching Fang English insults. "I've seen the scrawny Betas you bring to your room sometimes. You're just scared of commitment."

"Tell me, are you going to knock your little girlfriend up next week?" Hannibal snapped.

"I would if she asked me to." Fang's voice was suddenly quiet, more serious, and Hannibal sighed as he realized that despite Fang's request, he was definitely being a dick.

"Look, Fang, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shit all over your good news. You can have as much time off as you want. As long as you get Tsui to cover for you, because everyone else around here is an idiot."

Fang cracked a hesitant smile. "Thanks, Boss."

"I don't like being on the wrong side of a fight with you." Hannibal elbowed Fang playfully, then growled in irritation as the motion hurt both his tight skin and his sore body. "God, I hate this. I'm not used to being all beat up anymore. I pay people to get beat up for me now."

"I'm glad I'm not one of them anymore. Remember when I split my forehead open on that yakuza guy's front tooth?"

Hannibal laughed at the memory. Fang had been working as a bouncer at a club when he'd met her. He'd wondered at first why they would hire such a small Alpha to do that kind of job. Then he'd seen her take down a man almost twice her size. He'd hired her as one of his bodyguards, only to find out that her day gig was studying at the local university's business school. He'd gained one of his best fighters and his very best company employee, all in one night. He and Fang had seen a lot of shit together since then.

"We both enjoy our peaceful little desk jobs now, huh?" he joked.

Fang looked down for a moment, then glanced back up and met his eyes. "I was wondering...do you want to meet my girl sometime?"

"Me?"

"Well, I don't really have anyone else to introduce now, do I?" Fang smiled, but it was close-mouthed and didn't reach her eyes. Her family was from a small village down the Chinese coast, and none of her close relatives had survived when Tentalus surfaced there three years ago.

"Sure, I'll meet her. I might scare her off, though."

"Well, she's not scared of me, so I think she's pretty tough." Fang began to rise from the bed, signaling the end of their little personal talk. "Is there anything special you want me to do today, Boss?"

As soon as she asked, Hannibal recognized the half-formed thought that had been nagging at him all day. "Yeah. I want you to find out everything you can about Dr. Newton Geiszler. And how to get in touch with him. I think he might be useful in the product side of our business." 

"A doctor?"

"He's a scientist for the PPDC. I got him Baby Otachi's brain." He grinned. "Plus, he owes me a date."


	5. Searching for something I could not describe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt reunites with Vanessa and Hermann, and Hannibal goes out to dinner with some friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: The main one I can think of for this one is pregnancy. If you hate hearing anything about anyone's pregnancy, maybe you won't like this one? Oh, and also, talk of invasion of privacy from someone seeing someone else naked accidentally due to Drift technology. ALSO, one ableist slur ("crazy").

Newt was hyper-aware of his own body for the next few days. Every muscle twinge or chill was surely the first sign of a heat coming on. He was a nervous wreck. Luckily, there wasn't too much for him to do; things were winding down at the Shatterdome, and Herc was too busy spending every minute at Chuck's bedside to be a very demanding marshal. The doctors hadn't expected Chuck to wake from his coma, but now that he had, his father wasn't wasting a moment that could be spent with him.

Newt was fiddling around with with a rather sloppy attempt at a better organ preservation solution when he finally received a blessed distraction in the form of a visitor. 

"Where's the most fabulous biologist in Hong Kong been hiding?" a loud voice trilled from his doorway. The sudden noise caused him to knock over the solution he was working on, but he couldn't be angry once he identified the speaker.

"Vanessa!" he cried, not even bothering to clean up the spill. It was more important that he receive his hug as soon as possible.

Vanessa gave the world's best hugs. They were only improved by how Hermann huffed and rolled his eyes whenever she bestowed one upon Newt, just like he was doing now.

Newt threw himself eagerly into Vanessa's soft arms, but found himself colliding with her distended stomach. "Oops! Didn't mean to crash into your womb." He patted her belly apologetically.

"No harm done. Maybe you'll get baby kicking now and you can feel her! I think she's been playing football in there."

"Can you believe you're going to have a little girl, Hermann?" Newt asked, aiming his question over Vanessa's shoulder while shamelessly cuddling against it. "Let's hope she looks like her mom."

Vanessa laughed, and Hermann's mouth twitched as he tried not to smile. Vanessa was overtly, extraordinarily gorgeous and worked as a very successful plus-size model when she wasn't pregnant. Hermann was...well, Hermann was Hermann. 

"You better be nice to my man, Newt. You almost got him killed not two weeks ago," Vanessa warned. It wasn't that intimidating, since she still hadn't released Newt from the hug. "Do you want to see the scans of the baby?" She started rummaging through her tote bag.

"Yes! Give them here." Newt eagerly accepted the glossy papers and studied the pictures. The baby looked, well, pretty much like any other human fetus, but it was amazing to think that soon the little alien-looking thing would be Hermann and Vanessa's child.

As he leaned over to hand Vanessa the scans back, her scent drifted toward him. Vanessa, like Hermann, was a Beta, and didn't have any special pheromones affecting her scent. But something about her smelled different than he remembered...

Newt was struck with a feeling of wonder as he realized what he was observing. Vanessa smelled, just faintly, like Hermann. His offspring inside had changed her so that she carried his scent all the time, probably growing stronger every day as the baby grew, unnoticed by Betas, but obvious to others who drew close enough. 

"Newton? Are you all right, love?" Vanessa's arched eyebrows were furrowed in concern. 

Newt snapped out of it. "Yeah, I'm fine! How are you feeling, pretty lady? And how did you get here? I thought that you weren't supposed to fly once you were so far along."

"Pssh. It was easy. I got one of my friends to let me use his private jet."

"Oh, of course, as you do," Newt teased. 

"I wasn't going to be away from Hermann another second if I could help it." Vanessa finally stepped out of cuddling range to stand next to her husband, wrapping her hand possessively around his arm. He positively beamed at her in return. Newt had never seen his lab partner look at anything or anyone the way he looked at Vanessa.

"I know he's been missing you," Newt said.

"Of course you know, because I hear you've been rummaging around in my man's head. Did you find anything scandalous?"

Newt grinned. "I know what you look like naked now. But hey, I'd already seen the time you did the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show, so it wasn't a big deal."

"Oh, charming. I suppose I can handle it if that's the worst of it."

"Hermann's crazy about you, you know." She'd been all throughout Hermann's brain, woven like a golden thread through a dark tapestry, lighting up whatever she touched. 

"I know." She squeezed Hermann's arm, and he only looked moderately embarrassed.

"Did Hermann happen to talk to you about anything he saw in the Drift?" Newt asked. Not his most casual segue, but he really wasn't sure if Hermann would have shared the news about Newt's Omega status with Vanessa or not. He'd sworn himself to secrecy, but Newt figured that telling his non-PPDC-affiliated wife didn't really count.

"No, not much. Just that being inside your brain was almost as annoying as observing it from the outside perspective."

Newt snorted. "Thanks, Herm."

"Oh, come off it, you told me that you'd been to funerals more cheerful than my mental processes," Hermann scoffed.

"Yeah, but yours had naked Vanessa, so it was worth it."

Vanessa swatted at Newt's arm playfully, and he ducked away. "Are you joining us for dinner, Newt?" 

"I think I'll let you two lovers go it alone this time. I know you need to catch up. I expect you to visit me tomorrow, though." Newt pointed his finger in mock warning.

"Of course. We'll see you soon, love." Vanessa planted a light kiss on Newt's cheek, and Hermann made an expression of pure disgust. 

"Goodbye, Newton," Hermann said primly. At least he'd moved past "Dr. Geiszler" ever since they shared thoughts.

Newt retired back to his own room soon after they left. He'd been spending a lot of time there lately. Even though he hadn't had any symptoms that definitively pointed toward a breakthrough heat coming on, he didn't like staying out in public for too long. It was too easy to imagine himself breaking into a sweat, getting that faint, drunk feeling, all of the Alphas around him turning to stare...

He collapsed onto his bed when he reached his quarters. As he lay there alone in the silence, he realized that his body felt quite normal, but his mood was a little off. Somehow, ever since he'd been with Vanessa, he had an undercurrent of sadness running beneath his happiness at seeing her and his ever-present worry.

He thought again about Vanessa's changed scent, the way her scent had mixed with Hermann's, making something new. Newt ran his hand slowly down his own abdomen, down to the place just below his belly. 

When he'd decided to live as a Beta, he hadn't thought about having children. When you were sixteen, you thought about how to _avoid_ getting knocked up. All he'd worried about missing out on was sex with big, bossy Alphas, but he'd never gotten that as a teenager, anyway. He'd blossomed more in grad school, when he'd mastered the art of anonymous hookups with incurious Betas from the other side of town. 

Now that he was thirty-five and living alone on a military base, he missed all the sex he wasn't having. Of course he did. But what he was missing now, he realized, was what he saw Vanessa and Hermann have. Real love. Being so comfortable together, so close, so loved that she carried his scent with her, growing inside. Had there ever been anything more intimate than that? And had there ever been anything more unattainable for him? 

It was strange to think that he would mostly likely never participate in one of the defining characteristics of a living organism--reproduction. And he had no reason to believe that he would ever experience that kind of love with anyone, either. He'd made sure that it wouldn't ever happen. He'd seen to it himself.

Newt rolled over and pressed his face into his pillow. It didn't smell like anything, because _he_ didn't smell like anything. He was an uncanny, scentless being, thanks to his own blocker formula. It made him feel even more empty.

_Sleep, and when you wake up, you'll feel okay,_ he told himself. He didn't really believe himself, but he forced his eyes to close anyway.

*****

Hannibal's first outing after the Otachi incident was to a nice restaurant with Fang and her ladyfriend. Fang had made the reservation, scheduled the car to pick them up, and insisted that it was her treat. Then she'd told him that she wouldn't give him the info she'd collected on Newt Geiszler until they were finished with the dessert course. It was some of the most polite coercion he'd ever received.

Unfortunately, she'd chosen a restaurant he hated. It was one of those places that tried to be understated and classy, despite the obscene prices. It reminded him of places his father liked, and it made him sick. If you were going to spend big bucks on a meal, you had better make it a fucking Roman feast, not just some quail egg on a little white plate. He liked places that were more uncouth. 

He and Fang picked her girlfriend up at her apartment, which was in your basic-issue Hong Kong highrise. When she came out of the front door of the lobby, Fang visibly sat up straighter and stared, like a dog waiting for a treat. 

"You've got it bad, doll." Hannibal shook his head. Instead of responding, Fang jumped out of the car to greet her girl with an inappropriately long kiss. Then she politely held the car door for her, glaring at the driver when he made a move to do the same.

"Boss, this is Lian. Lian, this is my boss, Mr. Chau." 

"You can call me Hannibal. Hell, I've told Fang she can call me that, too, but she never does. Nice to meet you." Hannibal reached out to shake Lian's small hand and got a big whiff of her scent as he did. _Wow._ Her heat must be coming soon, or else she just smelled delicious all the time, because her scent gave him a little shock of desire all over. He suppressed it, though, and made their handshake a short one, mindful of Fang, who narrowed her eyes a little even at that brief touch. Fang was clearly in full Alpha-mode as soon as she was around this girl, protecting her from even imagined dangers. 

Lian was tiny. Her head didn't even come up to his shoulder when they exited the car and walked toward the restaurant. She had that baby-faced look that a lot of Omegas did, all doe-eyed and apple-cheeked. Fang threw her muscled arm over Lian's shoulders as they walked, and Lian instantly tilted her head to rest against her, just the right height to hide her face in Fang's neck. Anyone looking at them could see their relationship in one glance at that moment, and Hannibal got this urge to reach over and push them apart, like pushing someone out of the line of gunfire.

The restaurant was clearly impressing Lian; her doe eyes got even bigger as she looked around the elegant room. He supposed that karaoke bar waitresses didn't get to experience fine dining much.

Dinnertime conversation was friendly, but strained. Hannibal wasn't used to chatting people up for anything but business deals. Fang was so besotted with Lian that she spent most of the dinner watching her, checking to see if she liked each dish, stroking back strands of her bubblegum pink hair as though no one else were even around. Lian was actually the most talkative at the table, probably because waitresses were masters of small talk. He'd never been asked questions about the kaiju parts business in such a friendly and polite way before.

"So how did you two meet, exactly?" he asked as the waiter brought their main dishes. Fang shot him a dirty look, and he realized that she thought he was trying to tease her about picking up a cocktail waitress. 

Lian supplied the story anyway. "I was at work, and it was very busy. Fang was there and tried to buy me a drink. I told her that we aren't supposed to accept drinks from customers on shift, but instead of leaving, she said 'Okay, when do you get off?' She waited by the bar three hours until my shift was over and brought me a fresh drink as soon as I clocked out."

Hannibal chuckled. "You went for the 'wearing her down' approach, huh, Fang?"

"Well, it worked!" Lian said, leaning her elbows on the table and smiling. "I get a lot of Alphas following me around at work. Most of them are so rude, acting like it's part of my job to flirt with them, grabbing me and trying to sniff me, telling me what to do. It makes me nervous. When she was sitting there waiting for me, I could feel her watching me, but she didn't try to bother me. She was...watching my back. I felt safe."

Fang smiled, much softer than her usual razor-sharp one, and leaned over to whisper something in Lian's ear. 

Hannibal felt his stomach turn a little. Somehow, these two Chinese girls had just reminded him so much of his parents. His mother used to look at his father like that, mock-shy from under her eyelashes, a knowing smile, and his father had looked like she was everything he'd ever wanted, a prize bigger than his gold watch or his Rolls Royce, something he would kill and die for. 

"Do you have a wife, Hannibal? Or husband?" Lian asked. She was just making waitress conversation again, but the question made him wince a little.

"Oh, no. Don't really have time for all that...stuff." He had been about to substitute a less polite word.

"The boss has someone he wants to ask on a date, though," Fang butted in. "He made me write up a whole dossier on him. I'm trying to decide if he's been good enough company to deserve his boyfriend's file now, or if I should make him wait until later." 

Lian looked anxious for a moment, clearly not realizing that Fang had earned her right to joke with and harangue her boss quite a few years back. When Hannibal just rolled his eyes and sighed, exaggerated, Lian smiled cautiously. "And what is this boyfriend like?" she asked.

"Short. A genius. Crazy. A tattoo addict. You know, just your everyday kind of guy." Lian made a confused face, like she thought her English translation skills might have failed her, and Hannibal laughed out loud. "Seriously, that's what he's like. Not my boyfriend, though, and I didn't make Fang research him for a date. I'm thinking about hiring him as a contractor. He's a scientist."

"I suppose you've earned your file now, Boss. I was about to order dessert anyway." Fang pulled a thick file out of her bag and handed it over.

"Thank you, Fang, for actually delivering the work I paid you to do," he snarked, but his mind was already on the file. He cracked it open and began to read as Fang and Lian talked softly together and started on dessert.

Hannibal read that Newt was born in Germany, which surprised him, and that he was an MIT graduate and former faculty member with six doctorates, which did not. Although, really, six? Overachieving nerd. Newt had served with the PPDC for almost ten years, and had excellent performance reviews, except for many personnel complaints from one Dr. Hermann Gottlieb. Newt had been arrested twice in college, once for protesting outside a campus building and once for public intoxication. Pretty typical college stuff, then. 

His eyes drifted down to the "Personal Associations" section of the file. Newt, a Beta, had never been married, no children, no known longterm relationships. That actually boded pretty well for possible willingness to have casual sex with a shady business dealer, unless he just wasn't interested in sex altogether, which would be a disappointing possibility. 

Hannibal snapped the file closed. "Good work, Fang. I guess we'll be getting in touch with Dr. Geiszler pretty soon."

"You haven't gotten in touch with him at all yet? You realize, he probably thinks you're dead," Fang said.

"Oh, because that kaiju ate you?" Lian added. He had a feeling that surviving a kaiju was going to be his defining biographical detail.

"He doesn't run in the same circles as us, Boss," Fang said. "The Bone Slums know you're alive, but that doesn't mean that those people at the Shatterdome do. Especially now that Pentecost is dead."

Hannibal frowned. Fang was right. The last time he'd seen Newt had been from between Baby Otachi's jaws. The scientist had already been gone by the time he cut himself out. Newt would naturally assume that he was dead for good. "Maybe I should call him before I go see him about a job. Wouldn't want to scare the shit out of him."

"You do that, Boss. Plus, he might tell you to fuck off, and you wouldn't want to waste your time going out there in person if he did."

"He won't tell me to fuck off, Fang. You of all people should know, I know how to make a hell of a good offer." He intended to make several good offers to Newton Geiszler, very soon.


	6. Need you closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt and Hannibal meet again at last.
> 
> A million thanks to both **teatimechai** and **killerweasel** for beta-ing this chapter!
> 
>  
> 
> WARNINGS for this chapter that contain SPOILERS:
> 
>  
> 
> Lots of angst and insatiable lust and then some possibly out of character sexual behavior because of going into heat, so that could be dubcon, I suppose? Ye be warned.

Newt did manage to fall asleep, but he woke up in the early morning, sweating all over his sheets. He was gasping, tangled up in the covers, and oh, he was hard. Worst of all, he had been having a dream, a dream so clear that it was burned into his brain, so vivid that he felt like he was still in it as he jolted awake.

He'd been dreaming about Hannibal Chau.

Hannibal had been in his bed, holding him, somehow touching him all over, everywhere at once, more than was possible. And Hannibal was inside him, deep inside, moving with a roughness and abandon that Newt had never felt before, filling him like no one had before, and blood was running down his neck...

Newt had to reach up with his fingers and feel the intact skin on his throat to believe that it was just a dream, that Hannibal hadn't marked him. He got this sick feeling of regret when he felt the smooth, unbroken flesh. 

Then he was distracted by his own continued arousal. Waking up that way wasn't foreign to him, celibate as he was, but he'd never felt so close before, ready to burst with just a touch. Newt gave into the temptation and took himself in hand, determined to jerk off efficiently and get back to sleep.

As he touched himself, though, he realized that the moisture on his sheets wasn't just from sweat. He was slick, wet between his legs, so much that he could feel it on his thighs, leaking onto the sheets below him. He never got like this, not unless he was in heat. 

He panicked for a moment at the realization, but then was overtaken by his need. He continued stroking himself, this time reaching down to slip a finger into himself. 

It wasn't enough. It was never enough.

He felt tears welling up in his eyes, his stomach churning. He was alone. He'd forgotten the worst part of his heats. Not the fear of discovery or the inconvenience to his life. The solitude. Being alone when he needed someone so much.

The person he needed, apparently, was a rude, terrifying man who happened to be dead. Newt had watched him die. And how sick was it that all he could regret about that horrifying event right now was that Hannibal wasn't in his bed with him, chasing the emptiness away?

Newt let himself imagine it as he touched himself, jerking his hand so fast and pressing his fingers so deep that it almost hurt. He imagined being touched, being held, being _claimed_ , and he had to bury his face in his pillow to muffle his shocked sound of pleasure as he came.

When he came down from the high, he could finally think a little more clearly again. He chose to ignore the fact that he'd just masturbated while thinking about a dead person and focused on what he was going to do now that he was definitely in the beginnings of a heat.

He could always just hole up in his room and hope that no one noticed. He could plead sickness and avoid the lab until his heat had run its course. Even as the idea occurred to him, he realized that it wouldn't work. There was no special air filtration system in this wing of the Shatterdome, and the pheromones that came with the heat were strong enough to permeate ordinary doors and walls, probably enough to fill the whole corridor by his bunk. If one Alpha caught his scent and went into a frenzy trying to get in, his cover would be blown.

He wasn't in full-blown heat yet, though, so maybe he could escape the Shatterdome without detection and get somewhere safe. If he slathered on enough topical pheromone masking products, he might hide his burgeoning scent enough to avoid notice. Only if he got going fast, though. 

There was always the issue, too, that Newt himself might lose control of his behavior. He'd woken up hard, wet, and desperate in his own room alone. How might he react if he actually got near an Alpha in this state? 

_Hermann_ , Newt thought. _I need Hermann to help me._ He was too nervous to even venture down the hall to Hermann's room at the moment, so he called his cell instead. 

“Newton?” Hermann answered, managing to sound drowsy and angry at the same time. “Why are you calling me in the middle of the night? You woke Vanessa, and she needs her sleep. It's very inconsiderate to...”

“Hermann, dude, I'm in heat,” Newt interrupted. “I need to get out of here, get to an Omega haven or something. It just started. Can you come with me, help me get out of here without anyone noticing?”

There was a long pause, and then Hermann sighed loudly into the phone, making Newt wince. “Fine. I'm coming over. Pack a bag.” Hermann hung up without saying goodbye, but Newt was too relieved to be offended.

When Hermann showed up, he had a pad of drafting paper under his arm and was accompanied by Vanessa.

“Dude?” Newt said hesitantly.

It spoke to their many years of acquaintance that Hermann knew exactly what he was asking by the tone of his 'dude'.  
“I hadn't told Vanessa about your little problem until just now, Newton. Considering the urgency of the situation, I thought that you and I would need all of the help we could get.”

Vanessa crossed the room swiftly and wrapped Newt in a hug, but for once, it didn't make him feel better. The foreign touch on his hot, oversensitive skin just irritated him. She didn't have the scent he needed. He made a grumbling sound and wriggled out of her grasp.

“Sorry,” she said, her brows furrowed. 

“No, I'm sorry. I love a Vanessa hug any other time, but I just feel so...it's like I'm going to crawl out of my skin. God, I hate this.”

“Focus, Newton,” Hermann snapped. “I think I have a plan.”

*****

Hannibal's dinner with Fang and Lian ran longer than he had meant it to, and they all enjoyed a few too many beers. He woke up late the next day. He showered and dressed at a leisurely pace, then checked his calendar on his phone. He had only a few appointments planned for the day, and nothing very important. He let his gaze fall to Newt Geiszler's file, which had been laying on his desk, somehow looking more conspicuous than all the other piles of paper around it.

He slowly opened the file and flipped through it, skimming over the words again. It really was a good dossier. Very thorough. He lingered over the personal section again, reading Newt's name, his birthday, _never married_. 

If he actually wanted to hire this guy for serious work, he shouldn't be thinking so much about wanting to fuck him. And if he only wanted to fuck this guy, nothing more, he shouldn't be reading his file over and over, trying to draw more meaning out of the typed words, trying to remember just how his face had looked. 

Hannibal never admitted things like this, not even to himself, but maybe he was in a little over his head.

He could feel himself pursing his lips, his forehead wrinkling as his brows drew down. No, he was worrying too much. Wanting to hire someone and also wanting to sleep with them wasn't that big of a deal. It was possible that he should choose one goal to focus on at the exclusion of the other, though. He just wasn't sure which one.

Rather than sitting around stewing over it anymore, Hannibal decided that today would be the perfect day for him to visit the Hong Kong Shatterdome. Seeing Geiszler in person would probably clarify things a little. It couldn't hurt, anyway.

It only took a quick call to Fang to get the trip set up and two of his men ready to accompany them to the Shatterdome. Fang asked if she should try to call and talk to the new Marshall first, let him know that they were coming, but Hannibal figured that it was easier to ask forgiveness than permission, and told her to hold off. He doubted that Hansen would want him to be seen at the Shatterdome, now that the PPDC was definitely in the public eye. There were always a lot of Hannibal Chau rumors going around Hong Kong, so associating him wasn't exactly seen as respectable. But he figured that he had given enough funding to the PPDC to deserve a decent welcome, and besides, he didn't know any other way to get in touch with Geiszler. 

When they reached the Shatterdome, the place was bustling. A lot of the people around seemed to be working on closing the place down; he saw them packing up their desks and disassembling machines. There were still many workers who looked to be busy, though, as well as several employees who were speaking to reporters and looking harried. When a cameraman tried to point his lens in Hannibal's direction, one icy glare sent him scurrying away. Hannibal was glad to know that either his reputation preceded him or his intimidation skills were still in top shape.

He didn't see any sign of Geiszler or anyone else he recognized, so he stopped a passing woman in a PPDC coverall and asked her where the science wing was. She looked a little scared of him, but pointed him in the right direction.

“I don't think you can go there right now, though,” she added. “It's shut down.”

“Shut down?” Hannibal frowned.

“Just for today. Dr. Geiszler spilled something really biohazardous in there. Dr. Gottlieb came running out like a bat out of hell and said that everyone had to stay out for today while they cleaned it up.”

Fang snorted. “That's who you want to hire, Boss?” she said in Cantonese.

Hannibal ignored her. “Thanks. I think we'll take our chances.”

The woman raised her eyebrows warningly. “Dr. Gottlieb said it was really dangerous. Plus, he's in one of his moods. I'm more afraid of him than the biohazard, honestly. Good luck.” She waved over her shoulder as she strode away.

Hannibal made his way to the wing she had indicated. Fang was pointedly quiet, but he refused to acknowledge her disapproving looks as they walked across the Dome in silence.

When they reached the science wing, sure enough, there was a line of caution tape across the entrance, along with a crude, handwritten sign warning **KEEP OUT**. Hannibal rolled his eyes, preparing to step up to the tape line and call down the hallway to see if anyone was around, but then he caught a scent.

“Do you smell that?” he blurted out, not even intending to speak.

“What?” Fang asked. “I don't smell anything.”

“Someone's scent. _God_.” Hannibal felt a wave of heat run over his skin, instantly engulfing his whole body, overheating him. His head spun like he was drunk and blood was rushing in his ears. His heart was pounding, his muscles twitching, all from that faint, distant scent.

“I can't smell anything. Is it an Omega?” Fang gave him a cautious look like he might be a little off his rocker. He saw his men looking puzzled, clearly not noticing anything, either, and he wondered what the hell was going on.

“It's coming from this hall.” He stepped closer to the caution tape, pressed right up against its plastic barrier, and sniffed the air. The scent was just a little stronger there, a little closer. He _needed_ to find it.

He ripped the tape down with one hand, tossing it to the ground as he entered the corridor.

“Boss!” Fang cried. “What are you doing? There could be kaiju blue in there! What the fuck?”

He barely heard her. Every step brought him closer to the source of the scent, the person, so warm and alive, the one he needed to reach.

He heard footsteps echoing behind him as Fang chased after him, but he just sped up. 

“Boss!” she called again. “I can smell it now. It's someone in heat, but it's not even that strong. Stop! What the hell is wrong with you?”

As the scent intensified, Hannibal felt his heart pound harder, his skin tingle all over, blood rush to fill his cock. His muscles were jumping under his skin, ready to fight or fuck, he didn't care which. He hadn't felt like this since he was young. He hadn't felt like this _ever_.

He was running now, not looking around him, just moving closer, closer, until he finally saw Newt Geiszler. Geiszler was looking sweaty, sick, and weak, holding on to a skinny man's shoulder as he stumbled down the hall toward the exit doors. As Hannibal approached, Newt stopped, turned around. His eyes were huge, staring, the pupils dilated, and the scent was pouring off him in waves, sweet and hot and sickening, all heat. 

He was the source.

Newt seemed to be frozen in place, ignoring the way that the man was tugging on his arm, ignoring Fang as she ran up behind them, unmoving except for the tremors that were racking his body.

Hannibal stepped close then, finally close enough to touch, and took Newt's chin in his hand. He tilted Newt's head back, baring his throat, and the scent rose up even stronger. Hannibal growled, a foreign sound even to himself, and buried his face in Newt's neck, drinking it in. Newt's knees buckled and he wavered on his feet, but Hannibal reached out and caught him around the waist before he could fall. Newt trembled in his arms, arching sweetly against him.

“I thought you were dead,” Newt gasped. His arms came up around Hannibal's head, pulling it closer, pulling all of him closer.

“I thought you were a Beta,” Hannibal replied, his words getting lost as he tongued at Newt's skin.

“What the hell is going on here?” the man behind them demanded shrilly.

“He's my mate,” Newt said, his voice shaky, but clear. “He's my fucking soulmate.”


	7. Felt my feet lift off the ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, what do _you_ think will happen when Hannibal Chau finds his soulmate in heat?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was beta-ed by **killerweasel**. Thank you! 
> 
> Remember to follow my Tumblr if you want to-- I'm evrybodysdarlin. 
> 
> Thank you so much for the kind reviews this has received so far! 
> 
> If you want to read the content and trigger warnings for this chapter, immediately scroll down to the bottom note to see them. They contain **SPOILERS for the chapter.**

Newt had always been skeptical of the “soulmate” concept. He knew that the entire purpose of Alpha and Omega pheromones was to signal genetic compatibility, so it made perfect sense that some people would be extra-strongly attracted to each other. In his own life, though, he'd never experienced anything close to that kind of pull towards an Alpha. He'd privately thought to himself that people who claimed to have instant, irresistible soulmate attractions were overdramatizing, or idealizing the situation, or just desperate to find a mate in the first place. 

Then Hannibal Chau walked down that Shatterdome hallway, and he knew he'd been wrong. 

Hannibal didn't just smell appealing to him, the way some Alphas had before. He smelled like the cure, the one thing that could make him feel better from his burning, aching, sickening heat. He would soothe his misery and his loneliness, would fill his emptiness, would make it all stop hurting and start feeling good. He didn't want him. He _needed_ him.

The first moment when Hannibal touched him was like falling into cool water on a hot day and pleasure rushed all over his skin from that one point of contact. When Hannibal nuzzled into his neck, breathing hot and fast against the thin skin of his throat, Newt's whole body went weak, overwhelmed, and it turned out that being held up by his mate's strong arms was even better than just being touched by him.

Newt wanted more, to be held closer, to feel more skin, to be lifted off his feet and carried somewhere safe, but the little bit of relief brought on by Hannibal's presence cleared Newt's head enough for him to remember a problem that he'd been pondering.

“I thought you were dead,” Newt breathed. Had it really been just a few hours ago that he'd been crying in his bed because he'd dreamed of Hannibal and woken up alone? He'd felt such a sickening sense of hopelessness after his dream, like something was broken and could never be fixed. He'd seen the man he wanted die. What had happened?

Instead of answering him, Hannibal just replied, “I thought you were a Beta.” Newt felt a little wave of guilt at that, and a little fear that Hannibal would push him away, be angry at him for lying, but he just held him closer. Hannibal was opening his mouth against Newt's throat, tasting, and Newt's knees trembled as he remembered the way Hannibal had marked him in his dream. 

“What the hell is going on here?” Hermann's anxious voice broke through Newt's haze.

“He's my mate. He's my fucking soulmate,” Newt blurted out.

“Do you even know this man?” Hermann demanded.

“Uh-huh.” Newt was too distracted to answer with any more detail than that. Hannibal was letting his teeth brush Newt's skin, light and teasing, and just the hint of it made Newt moan out loud. 

“I need to take you somewhere. Where can we go?” Hannibal's voice was raspy, dark and predatory, with the same edge of desperation that Newt was feeling. He reached down and grasped Newt's ass, firm and possessive, and Newt squeaked with surprise, even as he felt himself grow even wetter.

“You're not taking him anywhere, but we need to get out of here!” Hermann interrupted loudly. “It's not safe for him here. You need to come with me.”

“Boss, let's just go,” an unfamiliar voice said. Newt peered over Hannibal's shoulder and saw three of his workers behind him. The one who had spoken was the bald lady, and she was looking pretty freaked out.

“Omegas are not allowed in the Shatterdome!” Hermann whisper-scolded. “Newton can't be found. We're trying to get him to a haven before anyone discovers him here. You need to ignore your heat-lust and listen to me!” 

“He can come home with me,” Hannibal said. “I'll take him right now.” He lifted Newt off his feet, gentle, and Newt found himself making an unfamiliar purring sound as he wrapped his legs around Hannibal's waist. The intimate position rekindled his neediness, and he felt his head spinning again. He might start to beg out loud if he didn't get taken to bed soon.

“He's certainly not going with you!” Hermann sputtered. “You're a complete stranger, and I'm not sending him with you in such a vulnerable state. I'm not letting you take advantage of him.”

“Oh my _God_ , I want him to take advantage of me,” Newt complained. “I _need_ him, Hermann.”

“You may think that now, but your heat could be--”

“Gottlieb! What's going on here?” 

Newt saw Hermann jump like he had been shocked, and then Newt's giddiness slowly morphed into nausea as he saw Herc Hansen coming down the hallway behind Hannibal's employees.

“I came to see why your caution tape was down and why strangers without visitor passes were seen going into this corridor without permission. And why is there an unauthorized Omega...” Herc trailed off as his eyes focused on Newt, still wrapped up in Hannibal's arms. “Geiszler?” His voice had gone from angry to shocked, quiet and uncertain, in a way that Herc Hansen never was, and that was the most unsettling thing yet. Newt knew that Herc could smell his scent, could see his heat-addled behavior, and there was no excuse to be made, nothing else to be said. Herc stepped back, trying to get away from Newt's heat-scent, he supposed. Herc stared without speaking for a few of the longest moments of Newt's life. 

“Marshal Hansen, sir,” Hermann began, breaking the silence. “I'm sure you can understand why Newton would--”

“You're in heat, Geiszler. You need to get somewhere safe,” Herc interrupted. His voice showed no emotion, but it was back to its usual gruff tone, which was a little comforting, at least. “Follow me.”

“You'll take my mate over my dead body, Red.” Newt could smell the pheromones pouring off of Hannibal, the challenge of an unfamiliar Alpha riling him up. He hadn't set Newt down, and his big hands dug into Newt's back so tightly that it hurt for a moment.

“You don't have permission to be here, and I don't see a mark on Geiszler,” Herc retorted.

“He's my soulmate,” Newt interjected. “He needs to be with me. If he leaves, I leave.” Newt felt a wave of fear and anger sweep over him as he thought of where Herc could be headed. “Where are you taking me? The brig?”

“For God's sakes, Geiszler, I'm trying to help you!” Herc shouted. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “There's a locked saferoom with air filters that Chuck uses when he's in heat. If we get you there, you'll be safe until your heat is over. Then we can talk about...your future here, and exactly how many risks you took by doing what you did.”

Newt was glad to know that he wasn't being immediately arrested or thrown out, but he couldn't help but ask one more question. “Can Hannibal come with me?”

“Hannibal? You're Hannibal _Chau_?” Herc exclaimed, staring at the big man. “Geiszler, _he's_ your soulmate?”

“Yeah, I am, and if you don't show us to your heat room right now, he's going to be leaving with me instead. Unless you'd prefer that I knot him right here?” Hannibal thrust his hips suggestively, rubbing up against Newt, making him gasp.

Herc made a disgusted noise. “He can come with you if you want him, Newton. Let's just get going. Chau, your little toadies need to leave. Gottlieb, get to my office, now. We need to have a long talk about your involvement in all of this.”

“He didn't know anything!” Newt cried. “He didn't know until we Drifted. I swear, Herc. Please don't do anything to Hermann.”

“Don't worry about Gottlieb. Worry about yourself. Come on.” Herc turned and began striding down the hallway, and Newt tried to wriggle out of Hannibal's arms to follow, but Hannibal didn't let go. 

“You don't need to get down. It'll be easier for me to throw you on the bed and rip your clothes off if I'm already holding you,” Hannibal growled in his ear. The explicit words and the tickle of hot breath against his skin reawoke Newt's need. He melted into Hannibal's touch and let himself be carried down the hall.

It was humiliating, in a way, to be hauled around like a doll. It was so obviously submissive, so Omega, and he'd never been that, had never let himself be that. But being pressed up against a warm, big body, so strong, smelling like home, was intoxicating and sweet, and being so visibly _claimed_ was delicious.

They reached the saferoom quickly, and Herc entered a code into the keypad to unlock the door. “No one knows the code but me. There's a little bit of food and water in the cupboards. Stay here until you're sure that your heat is over. Then come find me. Don't think that you're not in deep shit, Geiszler, but I want you to stay safe and not cause any trouble for once.”

“Thank you,” Newt said, sincerely.

Then, finally, he and Hannibal were alone, with a locked door between them and the rest of the world. As he'd promised, Hannibal threw Newt onto the dusty bed, then followed him down. He loomed over Newt's prone body, looking so big and intimidating, and Newt felt nervous for a moment, trapped. Then Hannibal slipped his dark glasses off and leaned down to kiss him for the first time, square on the mouth, lush and decadent, and Newt forgot his fear, forgot his worries, forgot everything as he let himself drown.

*****

Hannibal wanted to take Newt home with him. Taking the smaller man into his arms had triggered a feeling of possession and protectiveness that had overwhelmed him. He needed to be in his own room, door locked and guarded, in his own territory. He was racked by conflicting urges to keep this man safe and to tear him to pieces.

He knew it would be insanity to take a pleading Omega in heat through a building full of Alphas, and he also knew that he'd never be able to wait through the long car ride back to his own building to claim the Omega, so he consented to the PPDC saferoom even though it rubbed him the wrong way.

Once they were locked in the room alone and Newt was laid out before him, though, all of his irritation, distractions, and doubts fell away. 

There he was. Right there.

He ripped half the buttons off Newt's shirt trying to get it off as fast as possible, and got his own fingers tangled up in belt buckles and zippers as he struggled to pull off the scientist's ludicrously tight pants. 

“Please, please, please,” Newt was chanting like a mantra. He wriggled around, trying to help with the task of removing his clothes, but he was loose-limbed and clumsy in his arousal, and he seemed unable to stop his hands from clinging to whichever bit of Hannibal was nearest.

Hannibal moaned in stunned pleasure as he saw the extent of Newt's tattoos. Colorful ink covered him from neck to waist, winding up and down his arms, with one kaiju tail even extending to wrap around a hipbone. He was too frantic to examine the tattoos in detail. He contented himself with rubbing his face against them, breathing in deep to draw in as much of his mate's sweet scent as he could. It was better than the best drug he'd ever had and his head was spinning with it. 

Then Newt spread his legs, trying to wrap them around his waist, and the scent grew even stronger. The urge to claim every inch of Newt's skin with his hands and tongue was drowned out by the need to be deep inside him.

He leaned over Newt, pressing up against him, but his move provoked an unsatisfied groan from the naked man underneath him. 

“Suit off, need to feel your skin. Oh, my God, I need you so much, please, please...” Newt babbled.

“I'm trying, kid, jeez.” He began tugging his own clothes off quickly, paying them no attention as they fell by the side of the bed. Before he could lean back down, Newt let out a little squeak and lunged at him, pressing his face into Hannibal's chest, clinging to his waist, gasping.

“God, you feel good,” Newt breathed against his skin.

“I'll feel better inside you.” Hannibal leaned down and nipped at his earlobe, and Newt let out an incoherent cry.

“Yes, yes, c'mon.” He threw himself back onto the bed, so hard that he bounced a little off the mattress, and as Hannibal moved over him, he wondered if the kid was always this twitchy.

He reached his hand down between them, groping between Newt's legs, and he savored the way the Omega responded, opening his legs for him, rocking his hips closer, begging in an endless stream of consciousness monologue.

Hannibal slipped a finger into him and it slid in easily, sliding smoothly on the hot, fragrant slick that was coating the Omega's passage. He felt Newt's body tightening and clenching around him, the warmest, sweetest, wettest thing he'd ever felt, and his own body was racked with shudders at the feeling.

“No fingers, I'm ready, I'm ready. Don't tease me, man.” 

Hannibal wanted to take him at his word, but he hesitated, wondering if his swollen cock and the knot that he could already feel forming at its base would hurt the smaller man. All of his usual callousness was gone when it came to this man, this moment.

He looked down at Newt, about to ask if he was sure, but the sight of the Omega's dazed, blissful face distracted him so much that they ended up kissing again instead.

“Inside,” Newt whispered into the kiss, and then it was the easiest thing he'd ever done to shift his hips and slide into him. A perfect fit.

He groaned at the feeling, a loud groan that morphed into a growl. His cock was being squeezed from root to tip, perfectly enveloped in smooth, grasping heat. He could feel the blood rushing to his cock, beginning to fill his knot, and for a moment, he thought that he would come already, tie them together before they'd even begun.

Luckily, he managed to hold out, and then he gave in to his body's silent urges and Newt's loud demands that he move. He began to thrust, too impatient and overwhelmed to set a rhythm or go slow. It was pure hedonism, feeling the tightness of his mate's body stroke and squeeze his cock. 

He began thrusting deeper, pressing in as far as he could go, spilling praise and profanity out of his mouth as he felt the way they fit perfectly together.

He gave a particularly vicious stroke with his hips, and Newt let out a shriek so loud that it made his ears ring. Suddenly, the tight heat grew even tighter, squeezing his cock to a point of unbearable pressure and pleasure. Newt's entire body twitched around him, spasming, as Newt cried out and spurted come across his own tattooed stomach and chest. Hannibal could see his fingers curling, grasping at nothing, and his eyes falling closed involuntarily.

“That's it, baby,” he whispered, watching the show.

“Oh, _fuck_ , don't stop, don't stop.” Newt was trembling and boneless, but somehow still begging for more. “Need your knot.”

“You want it?” Newt nodded eagerly, and Hannibal resumed his thrusting. His movements were strong enough to shake the flimsy bed. Newt clung to his shoulders, digging his fingernails in, like it still wasn't enough.

"Want you to mark me," Newt mewled.

"Yeah?" Hannibal's muscles were burning with the effort of his motions, his chest was heaving, but he couldn't stop, didn't ever want to stop.

"Dreamed about it. When my heat started, I dreamed about you. Knew I needed you."

"I knew today. As soon as I smelled you. Knew you were _mine_."

"Oh, fuck, say it again." Newt's fingers tightened enough to draw blood.

"Mine." His voice came out as a growl, rough and harsh. "Mine, mine, mine."

Newt let out an inhuman noise, desperate and vulnerable, his face crumpling with pleasure, and Hannibal felt his own orgasm sweep through him all at once, shocking and inevitable.

He felt the knot at the base of his cock swell as waves of sensation ran through his whole body. He leaned down and sank his teeth hard into the side of Newt's neck, breaking the skin, leaving a mark that would never fade, and he felt Newt tighten and come again beneath him at the moment his teeth dug in. 

His cock was letting out a steady stream of come, filling Newt's channel with its heat as they both collapsed onto the bed, bound together by his swollen knot. 

Sweat coated their skin, and blood was running down Newt's neck from his wound. Hannibal licked up the mixture, loving the taste, savoring the feeling of Newt's heart pounding hard against his own chest. God. He was inside the Omega, tied to him, and it still felt like he wasn't close enough. 

Hannibal rolled onto his back and pulled Newt on top of him, letting the smaller man rest against him as Hannibal supported his weight. He ran his hands down Newt's back, his fingers skidding on sweat, and Newt laid his head onto Hannibal's chest and sighed.

“I can hear your heart beat," he murmured into Hannibal's skin, and Hannibal had never felt happier or more terrified or more achingly alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: There is lots of sex in this chapter. Both Newt and Hannibal want to have sex and are happy about it, but they act very shameless, urgent, and illogical because of the heat hormones, so it is not usual informed, thoughtful consent. Also, they make a binding commitment in this 'verse while under this influence by Hannibal marking Newt during this heat frenzy. Their sex involves knotting (although I didn't describe that part all that much) and Hannibal also gets very verbally and physically possessive and rough with Newt (and Newt loves it).


	8. Like me for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding your soulmate is amazing, but it doesn't make everything perfect...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to killerweasel for being my beta!
> 
> Please follow me at evrybodysdarlin on Tumblr!
> 
> To see the warnings for this chapter, click the link below to the notes at the end of the chapter. The warnings contain SPOILERS.

“I didn't know it would be like this,” Newt sighed. His mind was all fuzzy, he could feel himself babbling, but he couldn't stop the words flowing out. “I didn't know. Didn't think it could be so...just...wow.”

Hannibal laughed, his rumbling chuckle vibrating through Newt's body. “Did I break your million dollar brain, Doc?” 

“Shut up,” Newt murmured. The words didn't sound very threatening, considering their position. He and Hannibal were still tied together, with Hannibal reclining on the bed and Newt laid on top of him. Newt had his face pressed into the curve of Hannibal's neck, resting his head on his broad shoulder, and Hannibal was slowly stroking his back. 

Newt had never felt _happy_ during a heat before. He hadn't realized that the aching and the longing and the misery could lead to something this sweet. His whole body felt like it was glowing, radiating pleasure from head to toe. The frantic mating had been mindblowing, earthshaking, like nothing before, but this lazy afterglow was delicious. 

None of his previous experiences had prepared him for anything like this. He'd never had sex during a heat before, never been with an Alpha before, and none of his few awkward encounters with Betas had involved this kind of tenderness afterward.

Newt realized that Hannibal's fingers were stroking a pattern on his back, swirling along familiar lines. He was tracing Newt's tattoos.

“Do the tattoos freak you out? Most people seem to find them a little tasteless.” It was hard to clearly enunciate when his lips were pressed up against Hannibal's collarbone.

“I'm not exactly most people. I like them.” He was tracing around Bonesquid now, Newt could tell, tracing joints and vertebrae so carefully. Newt relaxed under the touch, soothed. How could being touched by this man he barely knew be so comforting? He knew it was just a cocktail of hormones, but it felt like more. He kept having stupid cliches go through his head, all of the shit people said about their soulmates on bad TV shows. _Perfect. Made for each other._ He reached up and traced the fresh bite on his neck.

“Is the mark hurting?” Hannibal asked.

“A little.” Newt winced as he brushed the lacerated skin. Hannibal reached up and gently knocked his hand aside, softly touching the mark with his own fingers.

“Oh,” Newt gasped, surprised. “Somehow not quite as bad when you do it.” The pain had this freaky edge of pleasure to it when it was someone else's hand. When it was Hannibal. He tilted his head to the side to make room for the touch, and Hannibal stroked the spot again.

“I can feel you tighten up on me when I do that.” Hannibal shifted under him, and Newt was suddenly hyper-aware of the cock still buried deep inside him. The knot had gone down, enough that they didn't have to stay tied, and Newt made an embarrassing little noise and grabbed onto Hannibal's shoulders. 

“Don't take it out.” His words came out like begging.

“I'm not.”

“Need you.” His languor was turning to urgency again, the heat burning under his skin.

“I'm right here.” Hannibal grasped his waist, his hands seeming almost big enough to encompass it.

“It's not enough.” He was shifting back and forth deliberately now, letting Hannibal's cock press every sensitive spot inside him, feeling the wet heat and the little gushes of liquid from the time before. 

Hannibal leaned forward suddenly, fast as a striking snake, and latched his mouth onto Newt's mark, suckling it tenderly. Newt's knees went too weak to support him, and he felt Hannibal's hands tighten on his waist like iron bands as his body went limp.

“I need you again. Can you go again?” His voice was coming out kind of whiny, but he couldn't really help it. 

“I think I can manage. Here, turn over.” Hannibal shifted, lifting Newt like a doll, and Newt made a noise of complaint as Hannibal's cock slid out. 

Hannibal laid him on the bed face down. “Wanna be behind you next time. Makes it easier when we're tied. Better for sleeping, too.”

“Who needs sleep?” Newt shifted up onto his knees, pressing back into Hannibal's looming form. 

“You might once I'm done with you, kid.”

The growl in his voice sent a fresh shudder of anticipation through Newt's body, and he reached back, groping blindly, trying to grab onto whatever part of Hannibal was nearest and pull him closer so the good part could start again.

“Easy, tiger.” Despite the teasing words, Hannibal was already moving in, leaning over to press their bodies together. His arm wrapped around Newt's chest from behind, pressing them together firmly, so tight it was almost suffocating, but Newt wanted it, laid his own hand on top of Hannibal's thick arm to hold him there.

Hannibal's other hand was slipping down between Newt's legs, his fingers moving in teasing circles. “Mm, you're wet. Want me to get you wetter?”

“Hell yes, just fill me up.” Hannibal did his happy growl again, and Newt smiled even as he writhed and arched his back to press himself closer to Hannibal's fingers. 

“Can't wait to see you walking around with my mark on your neck.” Hannibal was talking low in his ear as his fingers moved from teasing to probing. Hannibal's voice was lower than ever, strained and gruff. “You'll smell like me now.” 

Even as he moaned in aroused bliss at the thought, Newt felt a little edge of anxiety creep in. _Everyone would know._ There was no way to hide that he was an Omega when he wore a mating mark on his neck. Beyond that, there was no way to take back his friends, his boss, and probably the whole Shatterdome finding out about his lie. His life may be over. It would definitely be changed.

His uncomfortable thoughts must have made him stiffen up, because Hannibal's fingers paused. “You okay?”

He wasn't, he wasn't okay, but losing the perfect, delicious distraction of being devoured by his mate wasn't going to make things any better. “I'm fine. Don't stop.” 

He clung tighter to Hannibal's arm, overbearing and warm and secure, and let the pleasure sweep over him again, keeping him grounded and safe in this little locked room, held tight. Everything outside that door could wait.

*****

Hannibal woke up short of breath, panicking. He was trapped. Someone was holding him down, he couldn't move, he...

He let out a long breath as he realized exactly who was restraining him, and why. Newt Geiszler was sound asleep in his arms, spooned up against him with his back against Hannibal's chest. Newt didn't even stir as Hannibal woke up fully and tried to stretch a little. His body had gone boneless, completely relaxed in Hannibal's grasp. Trusting.

Hannibal couldn't help but smile a little at the sight. When was the last time he'd woken up with someone? He couldn't even remember. Maybe never. Most of his hookups had ended with polite, empty promises to meet up again and a little goodbye kiss that was already awkward once the fucking was over. Neither he, nor his partners had ever felt relaxed enough to actually _sleep_ together.

Hannibal leaned down and burrowed his face back into Newt's neck. His heat was still going strong, and Hannibal felt his cock harden instantly against Newt's naked lower back as he took in the scent. Then he felt his heart give a funny little double-beat as he realized that Newt's scent had changed. He already smelled like Hannibal. 

“What am I gonna do with you?” Hannibal muttered to the back of Newt's head. 

The question was more than just rhetorical. No part of Hannibal's life plan had ever involved taking a mate. He did business with shady characters. Hell, he _was_ a shady character. He had seen what happened when people like him mated. If the long work hours, lifestyle that required secrecy, and general lack of morals didn't do the relationships in, then rival businessmen or gangs trying to blackmail someone would. He'd known of more than a few dealers who'd lost their beloved mates to hitmen or kidnappings set up by enemies. He was a selfish bastard in some ways, but he'd always thought that at least he was a decent enough person to avoid getting anyone else involved in his fucked up life.

Now he knew that all of the stories about soulmates weren't just bullshit. When he'd seen Newt, smelled him, just stepped near him, he'd known. It wouldn't have mattered if he'd knotted him or not, if he'd marked him or not. Even before they touched, he'd known that Newt was _his_. Resisting him was impossible, but even if he'd managed, he couldn't have forgotten him. That was his mate, for better or for worse.

He wasn't sure if it made things better or harder that he could tell Newt felt exactly the same way. 

He looked down at the younger man in his arms. God, he was young. Twenty-seven years younger than him. Still had that smooth skin, an unlined face, almost innocent while he was sleeping. Did loving that make him a dirty old man? 

He ran his fingers lightly down Newt's back, then stroked up them up his brightly-inked arm. Little peacock. There was hardly a bare patch of skin to be seen. He never would have hoped his soulmate would be a tattooed little punk, but he liked the look more than he'd thought he would. It suited him.

Hannibal indulged himself by taking another deep breath of Newt's scent. So sweet, irresistible, especially mixed with his own. He considered shaking Newt awake for another round, sliding into his hot, slick, perfect body again, but he couldn't quite make himself wake him. Newt had looked so weak and unkempt when he first saw him in the hallway. He could tell that he needed sleep, and food, and also a good bath, since Hannibal had managed to get him pretty sticky. 

Hannibal hardly recognized his own thoughts. It had been so long since he'd felt the urge to take care of anyone. Not since he was a child himself, back when he lived with his brothers and sisters. He hadn't spoken to any of them in years. Decades. He'd thought that part of himself was gone. 

_But I'll take care of you. I'll try._ he thought as he looked down at Newt's sleeping face. _If anyone tries to hurt you, I'll fucking kill them, I swear. No one will touch you while I'm around._ He'd never say it loud, but it was a promise, anyway.

Then an unwelcome image flashed across his mind's eye. His father, holding his mother's hand, screaming like an animal. _”I was supposed to take care of her.”_ His father hadn't been able to keep that promise. And he didn't even live the kind of life Hannibal lived, didn't know the kind of people that he knew. He'd been respectable, even though he was a dick. But he'd failed. He'd lost his mate.

_I can do better than him. I am better than him,_ Hannibal thought. He took deep breaths, held back the edgy feeling. He looked down at Newt, let his eyes roam over his sleeping face, his messy spikes of hair, and the soft feeling that spread through his chest at the sight suddenly transformed back into panic.

__He squirmed free of Newt's weight, scrambling off the bed as quietly as he could. Newt still didn't stir._ _

__Hannibal walked into the adjoining bathroom, small and crappy as the rest of this little saferoom was. He turned the tap on and splashed icy water on his face. The cold shock helped drive away the anxiety a little._ _

__He turned on the water in the small stall shower. He knew that he'd just get sweaty and sticky all over again when Newt woke and called for him, but a hot shower would slow down his racing thoughts._ _

__It worked, at least a little. His mind wandered, thinking about the meetings and product checks he'd miss at work during the next few days, wondering how Fang was doing running things in his absence. Then he was hit by a sudden recollection of how Newt had looked a few hours ago, lying naked on the bed, looking up at him so intently, begging for his cock like he needed it to breathe. God, he was sexy. Hannibal reached down and lightly stroked his cock once from root to tip. He was pretty sure that his mate's heat pheromones were turning him into a filthy teenager again. He'd thought he had passed that stage about forty years ago._ _

__As soon as he turned the shower water off a moment later, he heard the sound of fast, frightened breathing from the next room, so loud that he could hear it through the door. _Newt._ He hurried out of the bathroom, not even bothering to grab a towel._ _

__Newt was sitting straight up on the bed, looking around the room, his eyes wide and nervous. When he saw Hannibal emerge, he let out a little sigh and his shoulders slumped._ _

__“You okay?” Hannibal asked cautiously. All of his protective instincts had urged him to rush to Newt's aid, but now that he was there in the otherwise empty room, he couldn't think of what could have upset him, barring a nightmare._ _

__“I'm fine.” Newt reached up and ran a hand through his hair, trying to smooth it down and completely failing._ _

__“You didn't seem fine.” Hannibal wondered if Newt was having the same 'Holy shit, I have a mate now' freak-out that he had experienced. Even though that would be understandable, Hannibal winced a little at the thought that Newt could be panicking because of him._ _

__Newt looked down at his own lap, pointedly refusing to meet Hannibal's eyes. “I thought you had left,” he said softly._ _

__“Oh.” He was hyperventilating because he thought Hannibal had abandoned him in the middle of his heat. Hannibal probably should have realized that Newt wouldn't like waking up alone in his needy state._ _

__“Well, I didn't,” Hannibal said. “I'm not going anywhere,” he added. The words seemed awkward, but when he said them, Newt finally looked up, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled._ _

__“When's the last time you ate anything?” Hannibal asked._ _

__“God, I don't even remember.”_ _

__“Hansen said there was food in here. Lemme see.” Hannibal opened a cabinet next to the door and saw a few paltry boxes of snack food. The best thing he could find was a pack of peanut butter crackers._ _

__“Here, kid.” He walked across the room in a few steps and sat down beside Newt. As soon as he did, Newt instantly scooted closer to him, laying his head on his shoulder, and Hannibal's arm wrapped around him instinctively._ _

__“I'm not exactly hungry for food right now,” Newt said, tilting his head down to plant kisses on Hannibal's bare shoulder._ _

__Although Hannibal's teenage boy libido immediately responded to the cue, he forced himself to ignore it. “You said you didn't need sleep, either. C'mon, a few bites.” Hannibal ripped open the package and held out a cracker. God, he was being a mother hen, wasn't he?_ _

__A thoughtful look crossed Newt's face before he suddenly spoke. “Yes, Alpha,” he said, sounding uncharacteristically polite, and then he was leaning forward and taking a bite out of the cracker straight from Hannibal's hand, looking up into his eyes as he did._ _

__Hannibal wasn't sure if the sight of his mate eating out of his hand was more erotic or sweet. It was something, all right. It was something he hadn't known he needed._ _

__When Newt finished the cracker, he lightly kissed Hannibal's fingertips before he pulled away. Hannibal reached up and stroked the side of his face._ _

__“I'm gonna take good care of you, kid. I swear.” So much for that promise staying unspoken._ _

__To Hannibal's surprise, Newt's smile faded at the words. “I don't really need to be taken care of,” Newt said slowly. But when Hannibal started to draw his hand away, Newt reached up and caught it, pressing it back to his cheek. “Just don't leave.”_ _

__“Not going anywhere,” Hannibal repeated. Another promise out loud._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: It's less explicit than last chapter, but there is some sex in this chapter, and it is still heat-induced, even though both characters are very willing participants and more self-aware in this chapter. There is also a little gore/bloodplay-type stuff because of Newt's bleeding mark. There is a character being overprotective/controlling of his mate in his thoughts only, thinking "No one will touch you while I'm around," etc., which I feel could be triggering since it's an unhealthy relationship dynamic even though he doesn't say it aloud. Finally, this isn't an official warning, but this chapter came out rather angsty, with characters experiencing anxiety and overwhelming emotions. It's not really fun smut like the previous chapter.


	9. The world will continue to spin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt's heat comes to an end, and they try to figure out what's going to happen after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is my obsession, so comments on it literally make my entire day!
> 
> Tons of thanks to killerweasel!
> 
> Click the end notes for content warnings.

When Newt woke up, not even one inch of his body was touching the mattress.

He squirmed contentedly. He was stretched out full-length on top of Hannibal, his face pressed into Hannibal's neck and their toes tangled together. Hannibal seemed to be completely asleep, but when Newt moved, he threw one heavy arm over his back and let out a little growling snore.

Newt laid his head back down. He was in no hurry to move.

Suddenly, it struck him. _He was in no hurry._ He was awake after sleeping for several hours, yet he wasn't frantically shaking Hannibal awake so that he could knot him again. 

Newt actually felt like he might be all right going into the bathroom and taking a shower without Hannibal carrying him in and fingering him while he rinsed off. He was calm enough now to notice that his stomach was growling. He was even considering going to find himself some food instead of waiting to be nagged to eat by Hannibal and then fed from his hand. 

For the first time in three days, Newt felt like his usual self. And it was freaking him out.

His first thought, honestly, was _I don't want it to be over._ His first heat with a partner had been...overwhelming. But so amazing. He hadn't realized how much he'd hated his long years of solitude and isolation until he spent three days being completely spoiled with affection. 

And it had been affection, not just sex. Hannibal had held him so carefully, stroked his skin so reverently, looked at him with intense eyes like he was the only person in the universe. Newt had gotten used to sleeping in his arms, spending all day long being held or kissed, even when they weren't mating. It felt like a feast after years of famine.

Newt reached up and clung to Hannibal's covering arm. He had just been hit with an unreasonable fear that he couldn't shake. What if Hannibal left now that his heat was over? What if he hadn't felt the soulmate pull like Newt had? Plenty of Alphas would spend a heat with an Omega, then move on like it was nothing.

But no, no, Hannibal had marked him. They'd bonded. They were mates now.

That was a whole other problem. Newt knew exactly nothing about being someone's mate. He knew that mates lived together, spent most of their time together...but most mates he'd heard of didn't mark each other after being acquainted only a couple of hours. How was he supposed to deal with being basically married to a guy he, let's face it, barely knew?

Newt flashed back to Pentecost telling him about Hannibal Chau. He had said, “Do not, under any circumstances, trust him,” with that terrifying serious stare that he had been so good at. 

Newt knew that Hannibal was, strictly speaking, not a good guy. He didn't know any of his particular crimes or sins, but based on what Pentecost had told him and the sheer terror that other people exhibited when they faced Hannibal, he was pretty sure that Hannibal hadn't made his way to the top of the kaiju business very ethically. Hell, the first time Newt had met him, he'd gotten a knife up his nostril.

Newt's heart began to pound with anxiety. He shifted and successfully rolled out from under Hannibal's arm, landing softly on the mattress beside him. Hannibal muttered in his sleep and frowned in apparent confusion, and Newt smiled a little against his will. 

He just couldn't fear the big man, as much as he knew he should. Hannibal had been nothing but gentle to him ever since they had seen each other in that Shatterdome hallway. Other than the mating mark that Newt had begged for, he hadn't caused Newt a moment of pain or discomfort, even during their most frenzied moments. He'd treated Newt like something delicate, so careful that it was almost annoying.

Hannibal rolled over onto his side, reaching out across the sheets with his eyes still tightly closed. _He's trying to find me,_ Newt thought. The realization filled him with a rush of tenderness that he couldn't suppress, and he scooted across the sheets and snuggled himself back under Hannibal's arm. Hannibal grunted contentedly, and Newt had to stifle a laugh.

Newt allowed himself to think about where he and Hannibal could stay if they did try to make a go of it. If Newt even still had his PPDC job after this shitstorm, he was pretty sure that his military issue cot wasn't big enough to fit Hannibal. Not to mention, his quarters were nowhere near as fabulous as Hannibal's gaudy lair. 

Would it be safe living in Hannibal's headquarters, though? Wait, did Hannibal even live in his headquarters, or just work there? Newt realized, sheepishly, that he had no idea. 

_I'm going to stay with him,_ Newt thought, surprising himself with the distinct clarity of the thought. It arose, fully formed from some dark recess of his brain, and it had the ring of truth.

Even if it was stupid, he was going to be with this man. He was at least going to try. Newt had always considered himself smart enough to know when it was right to make one stupid, fateful decision.

He felt the urge to shake Hannibal awake and tell him, but imagining speaking his thoughts out loud sent another wave of uncertainty over him. Maybe he would just wait until Hannibal woke up on his own. 

But God, when Hannibal woke up, he would realize that Newt's heat was over, wouldn't he? They'd have to clean up and discuss practicalities and leave the cozy little world that this room had become.

“I want more time,” Newt muttered to himself.

His words were low, almost a whisper, but they somehow cut through Hannibal's sleep. “Newt?” Hannibal asked groggily. The hand that had settled onto Newt's hip squeezed, a grasping instinct. 

“Yeah?” Newt whispered back. He cuddled closer, pressing his cheek to Hannibal's furry chest. 

“You need me again?” 

Newt smiled. The three days of heat seemed to have accustomed Hannibal to waking up to an Omega begging to be fucked immediately. 

Newt was, honestly, kind of tired and sore, but he knew that if he turned down the offer, Hannibal would realize that his heat was over, that they had to go back to the real world again. Newt couldn't stand the thought. 

“Yes, I need you now,” he answered, loud and deliberate, shaking Hannibal's heavy arm a little to wake him up.

“I'm here, baby.” Hannibal's voice was gruff and husky with sleep, but that didn't diminish the sweetness of the words. They were just what Newt needed to hear.

Newt didn't wait for Hannibal to move. He took the initiative instead, climbing on top and straddling Hannibal's body. He let his hands rest on Hannibal's chest, loving the thick strength of his Alpha, how he could rest his whole weight on him without a care. Hannibal opened his eyes fully and smiled up at him.

Their mating was fast and frantic, as it had been most of the times they'd done it, but this time the urgency came from Newt's thoughts rather than his hormones. _Make it go away. Make me forget. Let me stay here._ His mind was racing. Soon enough, though, Hannibal's steady thrusts and his gentle restraining hands wrapped around Newt's wrists calmed him, slowed his pace a little, until they were moving together smoothly. 

“There's my boy,” Hannibal murmured as their rhythm fused, and Newt ended up coming fast with a rush of involuntary tears streaming down his face.

Hannibal followed him easily, tying them together, and Newt let himself collapse down and hide his face in Hannibal's neck.

Hannibal broke the silence. “When were you going to tell me that your heat's over?”

“I don't know. Never? I thought we'd just stay here,” Newt mumbled.

Hannibal chuckled. “My place is a lot comfier than this shithole, kid.”

“Is that where we're going?” Newt kept his face hidden.

“I don't know, is it?”

Newt emerged from his hiding spot. “I thought Alphas were supposed to be all domineering and decisive.”

“Is that what you want from me?” Hannibal's voice was unreadable.

“No. But I don't know what the fuck I want lately.”

“Me neither. Hey, I've got some business to talk with you.”

Newt laughed. “Business? Your cock is still up my ass.”

“You wanna wait until my come's leaking out of you instead?” Hannibal's voice was a growl in Newt's ear, and he shuddered. 

“Maybe my heat's not over after all.”

Hannibal grinned. “Let's wait until we're both up and dressed. Then we'll talk.”

“Deal.”

Newt felt like a dupe as soon as he said it, because no matter what Hannibal asked him, how was he supposed to resist him enough to say no?

*****

It felt funny to look at Newt with his clothes on, and to look at him from so far away.

They were sitting on opposite ends of the bed, looking at each other across an expanse of empty blanket, and it was the first time in three days that they weren't touching each other. 

Newt was watching him expectantly, and Hannibal felt strangely tongue-tied.

He forced himself to blurt the words out. “Come work for me.”

“What?” Newt looked surprised, but it was impossible to tell if his reaction was pleased or dismayed.

“I want you to work for me.” Hannibal cleared his throat. Damn, how was this scarier than negotiating with street gangs?

“Work for you doing what?”

“Head scientist in my research and development labs. Examine all the specimens, figure out the best ways to preserve them, see which parts can be used for medicine or tech...basically, figure out how to make me money. And you'll be up to your elbows in kaiju guts while you do it.”

Newt was looking at him like a deer in the headlights, so he kept talking, sweetening the deal. “I'll pay you twice whatever your top salary was at the PPDC. Any perks or benefits you want. You'll be in charge of the labs.”

Newt finally spoke. “It all sounds great, but I wanna know, would you be offering me this gig if I wasn't your mate?”

Hannibal huffed, annoyed with himself that he hadn't predicted the question. “Yes! Why do you think I came to this dump in the first place? I was looking for you, to make you an offer. You can ask Fang. She has a contract for you already drawn up. We just got a little busy once I got here.” Hannibal grinned, suggestive, and he saw Newt suppress a smile.

“I don't think that anyone at your...company will believe that I got the job fairly. They might not like being ordered around by their boss's piece of ass.”

“Who fucking cares what they think? My company's not a democracy. Everyone who's agreed to work for me knows that I do whatever the hell I want.” In fact, most of his employees knew not to argue with him, so this was the most vigorous debate he'd had in a long time. With his own Omega, no less.

Newt huffed in frustration. “But I'll have to be working with all those people. I don't really want to be the nepotism guy.”

“Baby. You're a goddamn genius. You saved the planet. You saw the kaiju homeworld. Do you seriously think that anyone is gonna doubt your qualifications?” 

Newt preened a little. “Well, I guess not.” Hannibal mentally noted Newt's weak spot―vanity. “Is it even safe for me to work there?” Newt blurted out. “Pentecost told me you were a big, scary...mob guy or something. What do you even do?”

Hannibal sighed. His business and his past were things he had hoped to _avoid_ discussing. “You know what I do. You've seen my commercials. Kaiju Remedies.”

“You didn't make all of your money being a snake oil salesman, c'mon. And all the bodyguards? Seriously?” 

“Newt, you don't wanna know. Trust me. It's better if you don't know about my work.”

Newt scoffed. “Bullshit! If you expect me to come work for you, I wanna know what I'm getting into. If there's one thing you should know about me, it's that I _always_ want to know the truth.” He leaned forward, almost into Hannibals' face. “I'm not a fucking mob wife. Be honest with me, or my answer is no.”

Hannibal clenched his jaw in frustration, letting a little puff of air out of his nostrils. The last time someone had talked to him like that, he'd decked them. But this negotiation was rigged. As far as he was concerned, Newt held all the cards. He couldn't let his mate leave, couldn't let him go away where something might happen to him, couldn't stand the thought of going back home without this goddamned infuriating kid. Even aside from all that, saying “no” to Newt seemed impossible. Ever since the moment they'd bonded, every instinct told him to keep Newt safe, keep him happy. 

There was no getting out of this.

“All right, fine. I'll level with you.” Hannibal's mind swirled, trying to condense decades into a few sentences. It had been a long time since he'd had to explain himself, and even longer since he'd been honest. “My work now is Kaiju Remedies and selling kaiju parts to collectors. Rich creeps, mob bosses, dictators, you know, your general human scum. That's all. My taxes and my bookkeeping aren't the most fastidious, but nothing I'm doing now is too morally repugnant for your average venture capitalist.”

“You keep saying... 'now'." Newt's face was guarded, expressionless, and Hannibal wanted to take it between his hands and kiss the doubt off of it. 

“Before the kaiju came through, I wasn't always so on the up-and-up.” He had to force the words out. “I was a smuggler. Actually, more of a liaison for smugglers.”

“What did you smuggle?”

“Mostly exotic animals.”

Newt barked out a startled laugh. “Like what? Tigers and shit? Were you working for Siegfried and Roy?”

Hannibal snorted, glad for a break in the tension. “All kinds of things. It was more profitable than you'd think. There's a lot of value in it. Furs, ivory. Anyway...that was my sweet spot. But after a while, one illegal market bleeds into another, and I knew people, and they asked favors...I ended up moving some drug shipments...never weapons. Never...people. They asked, though.” 

God, he was making excuses, justifying, trying to make himself sound better. He was almost apologizing. 

Hannibal couldn't meet Newt's eyes. He couldn't. He'd lived his life for so long on the assumption that he'd never have to answer to anybody. There was no one he cared about, at least no one who would dare to question him. This, this making an accounting, this reckoning to someone else...he thought he'd left that behind. 

He had kept accounts only in his head, silent, and the only person whose opinion he'd ever considered, late at night when he couldn't sleep, had died fifty years ago. He couldn't ever tell her all he'd done, she wouldn't ever see, so he'd told himself it didn't matter anymore.

His mother would never know the kind of man he'd become.

He was pulled out of his mire of thoughts by a touch. Newt had reached across the blanket and touched his hand, wrapped his small fingers around it, holding on tight. 

“And now?” Newt asked. His voice was uncharacteristically soft.

“I focus on the kaiju business now. But I still have connections, old friends who ask me for favors sometimes. People who have a lot of shit on me, so that I can't really say no. I still do a few jobs for them if they ask. Mostly we ignore each other, but you never know what could happen if you get on someone's bad side. That's why I keep the bodyguards. I have a lot of scumbags that I owe favors to.”

Newt squeezed his fingers harder, but didn't say anything. Hannibal could see the wheels in his head turning. Newt understood the danger now. He was going to say no.

“I swear, none of that shit will ever touch you. I'll keep you safe. I'll get more bodyguards, I'll pay people off to keep them happy if I have to. I won't let anything hurt you.” He turned his hand over and grasped Newt's fingers tightly, used the hold to pull Newt close him, tug him into his lap. He'd started breathing fast, anxiety tightening his chest, but pressing his Omega close to him slowed his pulse again, eased his mind. He pressed his nose against Newt's throat, brushing his mating mark, smelling the way his own scent had settled all over Newt, infused inside him now. 

Newt's hands were petting his hair, an indignity he usually wouldn't allow, but in that moment, it was soothing. “I'm not afraid. That's not the problem.”

Hannibal forced himself to pull back from Newt's fragrant skin and look up at his face. “Then what _is_ the problem?”

“It's just...I've lived thirty-five years of my life without an Alpha. No one even knew what I really was. I've gotten used to being on my own, earning my own way and not needing anyone to take care of me. If I'm working for you, and you're protecting me, and I'm depending on you...it's just not what I'm used to. It's not me.” 

Hannibal's anxiety turned into a wave of cold fear. “What are you saying?” Was Newt going to try to reject their bond altogether?

“I want to be with you,” Newt began, and Hannibal's heart started beating again. “But I just don't know if I'm okay with my job and my safety and my...everything coming from you. It feels like I'm being some 1950's Omega.”

“First of all, if this were the 1950's, you'd be staying home cleaning house and making babies, not working as the lead scientist of a massive corporation.” Newt smiled shakily. “And listen...I'll treat you like everyone else at work. You'll have a standard contract, you'll pull your weight. I was going to offer you this before we ever mated. And I know it's what you want. All the kaiju toys you could ever ask for? C'mon.” 

“It does sound pretty awesome.”

“Look, I didn't expect any of this. I don't know what the hell I'm doing, either,” Hannibal admitted softly. “But I want you with me. And I think you want me, too.”

“I do.” Newt leaned down and kissed him, full on the mouth, sweet and open. 

Hannibal hadn't really seen the appeal of kissing until the first time he'd kissed his Omega. So many things hadn't made sense until now. 

Newt pulled back and cupped Hannibal's face in his hands. “So, where are we going to live?”

Hannibal laughed. “Oh, baby. Just wait until you see my apartment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNINGS: This chapter just has the usual sex and cursing, plus lots of bonus emotional turmoil.


	10. All the wise men to the hall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newt finally has to face Herc. Hannibal meets Hermann and Vanessa and is not exactly welcomed with open arms. Newt makes a phone call, and Hannibal's apartment is badass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for beta-ing, killerweasel!
> 
>  
> 
> The only content warning I can think of for this chapter is a little threatened violence/intimidation. Plus Newt and Hannibal's constant bad language, of course.

When Hannibal opened the door to the Shatterdome hallway, Newt honestly felt like he was about to step into enemy territory. He wasn't ready to go out there as an Omega. He just wasn't. He froze in the doorway, Hannibal behind him with his hand propping the door open.

“I don't wanna go out there. Seriously, let's stay here.” His heart was pounding so loud it was echoing in his ears.

“Newt.” Hannibal's voice was quiet, but firm, like a disappointed schoolteacher. Or like Hermann on one of his quieter days. “Relax. Here's the plan, baby.” He laid his hand on the small of Newt's back. “We'll go to your room, pack up your stuff, and leave for my place right away. You can send the Marshal an e-mail or something after you're already gone. Not worth losing your shit over this.”

Newt winced. How could he make Hannibal understand? He'd lived his whole life in hiding. Being an Omega meant being visible, being a target, being vulnerable, having to worry about a whole set of things that he'd fooled himself into ignoring for so long. Not to mention, everyone who saw him would not just think of him as an Omega, but as a fucking liar. His breathing was too fast, too shallow.

“I've got your back, baby. C'mon.” Hannibal slid his hand down from Newt's back to squeeze his ass, teasing, clearly trying to cheer Newt up, make him laugh.

Oddly enough, it worked. Was that part of this whole “bond” thing? The iron bands around his chest loosened a little as he chuckled.

“Fine,” Newt sighed, trying to suppress his unwilling grin. “If anyone looks like they're going to talk to me, just step in front of me or something. Human shield. Seriously, that's the plan. Human shield.”

They made it back to Newt's room without anyone trying to talk to them, although several people gave them curious stares, or at least Newt thought they did. He might have been imagining it out of paranoia. He supposed he should be grateful that at least he wasn't an unclaimed Omega. They put up with a lot more shit than Omegas who were already marked. God, the world was a fucked up place.

Hannibal looked horrified as they entered Newt's room. “Did your place get ransacked, kid?”

“Huh? Oh, no, I just don't tidy up much. I actually never spent much time in here, just came in to get a change of clothes, shower off if I reeked, pass out on the bed when I got tired...you know how it is.”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows over his dark glasses. “No, baby, I don't know how it is, because I live like a fucking human being.”

“Oh, whatever, man, you totally have a maid, don't you? And a cook?” He was just spitballing, but Newt was pretty sure he was right. A person who wore gold shoes in day-to-day life could surely afford hired help.

“A maid, yeah, but no cook. I get a lot of takeout. Or my guys get it for me. You know, life of a lonely bachelor.” Hannibal reached up and stroked Newt's chin with his thumb, smiling fondly, and Newt grimaced.

“I hope that doesn't mean you expect _me_ to cook for you now. I'm not that kind of Omega, honey.” He meant the endearment sarcastically, but he kind of liked the sound of it once it was out there.

Hannibal laughed. “Hell, no. I wouldn't even trust you around an oven. I got enough money to take you out every night.” He let go of Newt's chin, and Newt had to consciously restrain himself from leaning after his hand, trying to get his touch back. God, he had it bad for this guy. “Now how are we going to get your shit packed up? Are you sure we can't leave all of it here and buy you new stuff? Seems like less trouble than digging through this garbage heap.”

“Stop insulting my room. I got this.” Newt made his way over to the closet, navigating around piles of carefully organized and sorted debris, and pulled out his two large suitcases. “We'll cram all my clothes in here. Papers in my briefcase over there. Miscellaneous junk...just ask me.” He tossed the suitcases onto the bed and began to pull clothes out of the pile nearest him.

“The things I do for love,” Hannibal grumbled under his breath. Newt whipped his head around to stare at him. Had he really just said “love”? Hannibal seemed to be having the same realization. He winced, shoulders scrunching up with apparent embarrassment. 

Was Hannibal just joking around? That was a common expression, and Hannibal's tone had been all exaggerated fake annoyance. He was probably just kidding. That sounded like the kind of sarcastic dad-joke humor he'd heard Hannibal use before.

Still, Newt's mind immediately switched from obsessing over his escape from the Shatterdome to obsessing over Hannibal's words. _Does he seriously love me? I guess some people say meeting your soulmate is love at first sight. Shit, do I love_ him? _How would I know, I've never loved anyone before..._

Newt covered up his silent panic attack by continuing to pick up and sort through his pile of clothes. Just as he picked up a dirty sock, he heard a loud knock on the door.

“Oh, shit!” Newt said out loud. “Who the fuck could that be?” He rushed to the door and looked through the peephole.

It was Herc Hansen.

“Oh, God, it's the Marshal!” Newt hissed under his breath to Hannibal.

“Geiszler, I know you're in there,” Herc said loudly from the hallway. “I just want to speak with you for a bit.”

“Uggghh...” Newt moaned. He looked at Hannibal pleadingly. “What am I gonna do?”

“Just answer the door and talk to him for a minute, baby. Tell him you're quitting. Stop freaking out.”

“Easier said than done, man.”

“Listen, if you're quitting, why do you even give a shit about what he says? So he discharges you, fires you, who cares? You're already leaving. Just get it over with. C'mon, I'm right here with you.” 

Newt dashed across the room and threw his arms around Hannibal's waist, burying his face in Hannibal's broad shoulder. Hannibal agreeably wrapped his arms around him. God, it was like his anxiety went down the minute Hannibal touched him. Pheromones were a hell of a drug. 

“Okay, I'll go now,” Newt whispered after a moment. _Badass. Bold. Brave. Just get it over with._

He strode over the door and yanked it open. “Marshal Hansen,” he said with false bravado. “Nice to see you.”

Herc rolled his eyes. “Didn't you know I'd want to talk to you as soon as you left the saferoom?”

Newt stiffened. “I'm busy packing,” he answered shortly.

“Packing? I haven't discharged you.” Herc had that look on his face that he got whenever Chuck acted up. Maybe he was taking his frustrations out on other people now that Chuck was confined to a hospital bed and unable to wreak havoc on the whole 'Dome.

“I'm quitting.”

Herc huffed out a breath. “Geiszler, we need to have a real talk. Come to my office.”

Newt hesitated. He felt a lot safer in his own room, with Hannibal there, than he would going to Herc's office. He'd feel like a kid going to see the principal. 

“Can't we just talk here?”

Herc sighed. “Fine. Can I at least sit down...somewhere?” He surveyed the messy room. “I've been on the go all day.”

“Sure.” Newt motioned for him to enter.

“You're okay with him listening to us discuss your entire career?” Herc tilted his head toward Hannibal, who had been silently listening

“Well, he's my _mate_ now, so yeah.” Newt hadn't meant that to come out quite as snarky as it did.

“Fine.” Herc gave Hannibal an appraising glance, and Hannibal stared him down straight-faced. Herc didn't even blink. Herc was pretty tough, because Hannibal's straight face was actually relatively terrifying.

Herc went and sat down on Newt's rolly computer chair, laying his hands on his knees and getting comfortable. “Newt, you don't have to quit,” he began.

“Oh, really? I thought no Omegas were allowed in the PPDC. Except for, you know, your son.” More accidental snark. Newt sounded like a shitty teenager, and he realized it, but he couldn't stop it. He had some built-up resentment. 

“I didn't make that policy,” Herc replied.

“Yeah, but you didn't change it. Neither you, nor Pentecost. How does it make you feel to know that an Omega that none of you wanted to be here basically helped save the world?”

“We appreciate your work. You know why the policy is in place.” Herc rubbed his brow as though he was getting a headache.

“Yeah, because Alphas can't control themselves, or more like, because they don't want to control themselves. Because no one needs Omegas, anyway, they're so complicated, with their heat cycles and babies and all that. They should just stay at home, right? Not like an Omega could actually be useful.” Newt could feel himself moving into full-on rant mode. 

“The policy was put into place to _protect_ Omegas from harassment and attack. Military organizations haven't had a great history with Omegas.”

“Or, you know, you could have just kicked out the people that harass and attack other people. But wait, that would have been too fair and logical.”

“We were in a state of war. We didn't want to take any chances.”

“Bullshit. That's an excuse. It wouldn't have been hard to change the policy. Pentecost could have done it any time.”

“He knew you were an Omega,” Herc blurted out.

That knocked Newt speechless for a moment. “What?”

“Stacker knew. I looked through his file on you after you went into heat. He did thorough background checks on everyone. You know how he was...ridiculously anal. He had already found your records from high school. He knew you were an Omega, but he saw how much you'd accomplished, and he knew that it was worth it to recruit you. He let you keep your status secret for your own safety. He knew all along.”

Newt smiled. Part of him felt thrilled at the thought of his work being so exemplary that hardass Pentecost had made an exception to let him in. But as the thought sunk in, some of his anger returned.

“That's great for me. That was really decent of him to do that _for me_. But what about everyone else? What about all the Omegas who didn't even try to join up because they knew they weren't allowed? It doesn't help them.”

“You're right. It doesn't. Do you think it wasn't hard for me, having my boy be an Omega, watching him grow up and knowing that everything he tried to do would be limited? He was only allowed in because of his Drift compatibility with me. We would have kept his status a secret if we could, but Jaeger pilots were celebrities by then. I've seen the shit he's faced.”

“Then why don't you change the policy?” Newt collapsed onto the edge of his bed, exhausted from his own indignation.

“I will. Fine. I promise I will. Now that I've said that, will you say?”

Newt glanced over at Hannibal, who was currently folding one of Newt's shirts, quietly listening to the conversation. “No. I'm not leaving because I'm angry. Well, that was part of it. But Hannibal's offered me a job. Head scientist at Kaiju Remedies. There's a lot of good research I can do there, plus, you know, I can be with my mate. Is there really anything left for me to do here, anyway? The Breach is closed. The war is over. It seems like it's time to move on.”

“You're right. There's not much for you here. But I still like to have good people signed on...in case anything ever happens again. If the Breach reopens, or some new god-awful disaster hits us.”

“If that happens, you can hire me back. Hell, I'll volunteer myself back. But right now, I think it's time to go.”

“Then I guess it's time for us to say goodbye. C'mere, Newt.” Herc rose from his chair and held his hand out, and Newt crossed the room to shake it. Herc had one of those overly manly firm grips that hurt a little bit, but Newt smiled at the gesture anyway. 

“Let me know if you ever need me again. And thank you...for agreeing to change the Omega policy.” _About time...too little, too late..._ Newt's brain ranted, but he kept the words to himself.

“You don't have to thank me. It will complicate things...but it's the right thing to do.” Herc suddenly seemed to remember Hannibal's presence. “Mr. Chau...nice seeing you,” he said awkwardly. 

“You too, Hansen. I'm sorry about Pentecost.” Hannibal crossed the room and laid his hand on Newt's shoulder.

“Thank you.” Herc cast his eyes down toward the floor. He still looked a little sick every time Stacker was brought up. “Goodbye, then.” He began making his way toward the door.

“I'll keep in touch. Thanks for everything.” Newt gave a pathetic little wave. Sometimes social skills weren't his strong suit. At least he still did better than Hermann.

When Herc had left and closed the door behind him, Hannibal gently turned Newt around by the shoulders. “Now see, was that so bad?”

“Yes. It sucked. But I'm glad that he's going to let Omegas in. About time. I just hope that other militaries will start doing the same thing.” Newt paused. “Hey, do you let Omegas work for you?”

“I let anyone who's tough enough work for me. Some of the scariest motherfuckers I know are Omegas. Angry Omegas. Some of the smartest people I know, too.”

Newt laughed. “That sounds about right.”

Hannibal kissed his forehead. Newt would never get tired of that. “Now, I have a serious question for you, Newt.”

Newt felt his eyes widen nervously. “Yeah?”

“What the fuck is the deal with your suits and dress shirts? They're terrible!”

*****

After Herc left, Newt apparently felt relieved and secure enough to venture back out into the hallway. “I need to get some of my work from the lab. I don't get to take any equipment, really, so it won't be much. Can you keep packing while I go get it?”

Hannibal grimaced. Was this really who he was now? The helpful boyfriend folding clothes? But when he looked into Newt's sweet, crinkly eyes, he relented. “Sure, baby. Go ahead. I may toss a few of your uglier shirts, though...”

“Don't you dare! Only if they have holes in them, okay? Big holes!” Newt suddenly paused at the doorway. “It feels weird to leave you. It feels...pretty bad.” 

Hannibal was glad that Newt had spoken what he was feeling as he saw his mate about to exit. They'd been together for over three days, spending most of that time literally tied together. He had felt instantly miserable as soon as he saw Newt start to walk away without him. Was this what being bonded was like?

Newt scurried back across the room and threw his arms around Hannibal's waist. “I didn't think it would make me feel like shit just to leave the room without you.”

“I think this is just temporary. A new bond is overwhelming, especially a soulmate bond, right? That's what people say.” Hannibal hoped it was temporary. He had felt a moment of true pain and anxiety as Newt approached the door.

“Yeah. I think I better just go to the lab really quickly now, by myself. Like pulling a Bandaid off, right? Kiss me goodbye.” Newt gave Hannibal a generous smooch on the lips, then scooted out of his arms and walked quickly toward the door. Hannibal saw him wince in pain as he slammed the door closed behind him.

_This feels wrong,_ Hannibal thought immediately. _He's supposed to stay with me._ He forced himself to ignore the pull of loneliness and continued to pack up Newt's pigsty of a room. 

As soon as he was alone, Hannibal remembered the uncomfortable moment he had created a few minutes earlier. _The things I do for love._ He'd been just screwing around, just joking with a common expression. But he'd seen Newt freeze up when he said the words. Honestly, he was upset that he'd said something like that without thinking, without meaning it. But now that he was thinking on it, he wasn't sure that his comment had been so inaccurate. He had been alive for sixty-two years and had never felt as much sheer need or attachment to someone as he felt now for his weird little soulmate. He wanted to kiss him twenty-four hours a day. He wanted to keep him safe, keep him close, make him smile. It was ridiculous, sappy, embarrassing. But it was true. Was that love? Or had he just made things really awkward?

The door to the room swung open and Hannibal turned toward it, expecting Newt's return. Instead, a skinny man with a pouty face stuck his head inside. “Newton?”

Hannibal stared at the man, startled by his entrance and trying to figure out where he had seen the guy before. He suddenly realized that he had been the one helping Newt down the hallway when Hannibal had first seen him during his heat. He had outright yelled at Hannibal and tried to stop Newt from going with him. Hannibal sniffed the air. He even recognized the man's vapid Beta scent.

“Where's Newton?” the man demanded.

“He's getting something from the lab.” Hannibal felt like his duties had now expanded from housemaid to receptionist.

“Is he all right?”

“Of course, he's fine.” _Just well-fucked,_ Hannibal thought, but didn't say. He didn't think this guy would appreciate it. He seemed to have already decided that Hannibal was a public menace.

“Hermann?” A different voice was coming from the hallway. “Let me in, dear.” The skinny man was gently nudged aside by a Beta woman, stunning both for her very pretty face and her very large pregnant belly. “Excuse my husband's manners. I'm Vanessa Vance, and this is Dr. Hermann Gottlieb. He won't admit it out loud, but he's Newt's best friend.” She smiled charmingly. 

“Nice to meet you. Newt should be back any minute.”

“Why are you packing up his things?” Gottlieb asked, sounding near-panicked. “Did Marshal Hansen discharge him?”

“No. Newt quit. He's moving in with me.” _And there wasn't a thing you could do about it, stringbean,_ he mentally added. 

“So, you two are...bonded now?” Vanessa asked, sounding cautious, but less hostile than her husband.

“Yeah, of course.”

“After one heat? After barely even speaking to each other?” Hermann burst out.

“Did you miss the part where we're soulmates, Doc? Don't even you Betas know how that works?”

“I find the soulmate theory to be based on very subjective data,” Gottlieb sniffed.

“Yeah, well, now I have firsthand experience.”

Gottlieb rolled his eyes. “If Newt resigned, what is he going to do now? I really must go find him.”

“He's working for me,” Hannibal answered plainly. He wondered how Gottlieb would react to that fact.

“Working for _you_? Good Lord, he's going to be killed...”

The words hit Hannibal like a splash of icy water, a shock, panic. He was across the room in a second, his hand already reaching for Gottlieb's throat. He stopped short at the last minute, jabbing his finger into Gottlieb's sour face instead. “Listen, bub. Don't you _ever_ question my ability to take care of my Omega. Keeping him safe is my responsibility now. I would kill to protect him. You don't say shit like that around me.”

Gottlieb froze, but to his credit, he didn't flinch or back down. “I wasn't casting aspersions on you personally. I was only commenting on how your chosen field of work is not exactly the safest, from what I've heard.”

“And I'm telling you, you don't need to worry about Newt. He's safer with me than anywhere else.”

“So you're keeping him safe from everyone,” Vanessa cut in from a few feet away. “But can we trust that he's safe with you?”

“What?” Hannibal took a step back from Gottlieb, turning toward Vanessa, but not approaching her.

“Is he safe _with you_? How do we know that you're going to treat him well? How do we know that you don't have a temper, or a controlling streak, or that you won't cheat on him, or leave him?” Vanessa held her finger up in warning as she saw Hannibal about to speak. “We're his friends. We're only asking because we want him to be safe and happy. And I did just see you try to intimidate my husband...”

“My apologies,” Hannibal grit out. “I didn't like what he was implying.” He mentally groped around for democratic words. This was tougher than armed business negotiations. “I know that you don't know me, and I can come off as a dick. But I can honestly tell you that I have no intention of hurting Newt or letting him be hurt. You don't know what it's like with a soulmate bond. Fuck, it makes me sick being away from him for five minutes.”

“Neediness does not always imply a healthy relationship,” Gottlieb said, and Hannibal felt his fingers clench involuntarily. “But...that's not the point. Mr. Chau, we're just speaking to you like this because we want you to be aware. Be aware that Newton has friends who will be there for him in any time of need. _Any_ time of need. And although we may look unimposing, I assure you, you wouldn't like to get on either one of our bad sides.” Gottlieb's froggy face looked craggy and dark for a second, and Hannibal felt a momentary flash of real nervousness. This guy wasn't fucking around.

“Noted, Mr. Gottlieb. As long as you understand that we're on the same side here. Newt's my mate now.”

“Mazel tov.” That was one of the iciest deliveries of congratulations Hannibal had ever heard. How did this cold fish get to be best friends with rambunctious Newt?

“Really, we're happy for Newton, as long as he's happy.” Vanessa stepped closer to them and held out her hand, which Hannibal tried to shake gently. “Hermann's taking leave from the PPDC and we're going home to London next week. Maybe you two can come visit us, once the baby's here and we're settled in and all that.” Hannibal saw Gottlieb make an expression of abject horror behind Vanessa's back, and he almost laughed aloud.

“Well, thank you, Ms. Vance. We might take you up on that.” He just wanted to see Gottlieb squirm some more.

Then Newt entered the room, rushing in hurriedly. He jumped a little when he saw Hermann and Vanessa. “Dude! Hey!” Vanessa immediately walked over with her arms held out, and Newt gave her a vigorous hug that made Hannibal's jealousy instinct flare up a little, even if Vanessa was a Beta with her own mate. He didn't react, though, just watched as Newt went from hugging Vanessa to clapping Hermann on the shoulder.

“Ouch, Newton. Please calm yourself,” Hermann grumbled, but Hannibal saw the corner of his mouth quirk in a half-smile. 

“Herms, did you get in trouble with the Marshal for trying to help me?” Newt asked anxiously. “I've been thinking about you, man.”

“Hopefully not during your mating,” Hermann said bitterly, and Newt laughed.

“No, after all the mating. Seriously, did you get in trouble?”

“He gave me a lecture about how dangerous my actions were, what could have happened to you, why didn't I go to him first, et cetera, but I wasn't given any formal punishment. I think that he understood why I did what I did.”

“Good, I'm so glad. I didn't want to fuck things up for you.”

“It's fine, Newton. Please stop making a fuss. Now, how are _you_ doing?” Hermann glanced pointedly in Hannibal's direction.

“I'm amazing, man. Did Hannibal tell you what's been going on?”

“He told me that you resigned from the PPDC and that you're working for him now. Are you sure that's wise?”

“Yeah, man, it's perfect. Convenient. I'm going to have access to samples I never could have dreamed of, and, hello, I'll get to be with my mate. Did you guys all introduce yourselves?”

“Yes, we all got acquainted,” Vanessa replied. “Actually, Newt, could Hermann and I speak to you alone for a moment? Maybe in the hallway?”

“Um, I guess so.” Newt cast a puzzled glance toward Hannibal, and Hannibal shrugged. He knew that Vanessa and Gottlieb wanted to talk to Newt alone to make sure that he really was okay and happy with his decisions. It was obnoxious, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it. He didn't like being doubted or questioned, but he wasn't going to isolate Newt from his friends. Then he really would be a dick. If they somehow convinced Newt not to go with him, he would be pissed, of course, but he didn't think that they could do that. Newt's feelings for him seemed just as strong as his for Newt. Newt could probably explain the exact chemicals necessary to create the biological need that bonded them together.

Newt followed Vanessa and Hermann out into the hall, and Hannibal busied himself packing up the last of Newt's clothes and cramming his papers into his briefcase, including some indecipherable notes on little scraps of paper. It was hard to tell which papers would be important to Newt. He really was a mess, the classic mad scientist.

Newt, Hermann, and Vanessa returned from the hallway fairly quickly, and Newt gave Hannibal a blindingly sweet smile as he entered, so things seemed to have gone well. Newt's smile was so goofy that it was charming. His little stubbly face with its crinkled eyes and laugh lines.

Newt was bidding Hermann and Vanessa goodbye for now. Hermann looked disgusted when Newt gave him a generous hug, but he patted Newt's back gently with one hand as Newt embraced him. Vanessa kissed Newt on both cheeks, and Hannibal suppressed the urge to go give Newt more caresses of his own, to get their foreign smells off of his Omega.

When they were gone, Newt began scanning the room for any left behind belongings, throwing some away and adding others to his suitcases. He stopped in front of a framed photo that Hannibal had already noticed. It was Newt in his graduation cap and gown, standing between two older men and smiling proudly. Hannibal had assumed they were his parents. 

“Oh my god!” Newt exclaimed as the grabbed the photo. “I need to call my dad. I need to tell him that I have a mate now. The last time I talked to him was right after the Breach was closed, to tell him that I was okay. I can't believe I forgot.”

“Which one's your dad?” Hannibal asked, gesturing at the photo. 

“This one.” Newt pointed to the shorter man in the picture. “The other guy's my uncle. They raised me.” Hannibal was about to ask what had happened to Newt's other parent, but he stopped himself. He knew that he hated when people asked him about his family. He wasn't going to pry.

Newt answered his unspoken question, anyway. “I have a mom, too, but we don't talk much. She left my dad when I was a baby. She's an opera singer, always on tour. One of the rare Omega parents I've ever heard of to abandon their kid. Lucky me, huh?” Newt added sarcastically. “My dad's a Beta, so he knew they couldn't bond like she could with an Alpha, but he loved her anyway and thought it might work out. When she moved out, Uncle Illia moved in. They ended up wanting to leave Berlin, so they moved to Boston with me when I was five. Sorry, am I rambling? I just figured you'd want to know this stuff now that we're, you know, mates.” Newt rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“It's all right.”

“Well, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but...what about your family?”

Hannibal sighed. He didn't want to talk about it, but it didn't feel right to keep things from Newt when he'd just been so honest. He'd just give him the abridged version. “I grew up in Brooklyn. My mom was an Omega. Sweetest lady in the world. She died when I was eleven. My dad was an Alpha. Total asshole. I left home when I was fifteen, fast as I could get out. I had four little brothers and sisters. Lost touch with them after I left. Don't know what any of them are doing.”

“Dude, that sucks,” Newt said, making the casual words sound surprisingly hurt and sincere. “C'mere.” He pulled Hannibal into a hug. Hannibal rolled his eyes behind Newt's back. He didn't like pity or comfort. He wasn't going to say no to any chance to get his arms around Newt, though. He rubbed his face against the mark on Newt's neck, trying to replenish his scent on Newt's skin. 

“Do you ever think about finding them again?” Newt asked, sounding cautious.

“Sometimes, yeah. But they probably wouldn't even know me now.” Only one of his siblings' faces was still clear and bright in his mind. Rachael. She'd been three when their mother died. He'd done everything for her after that. He'd heard from someone in the neighborhood that his father had hired a nanny for her after he left. God forbid his father actually take care of his own kid. He'd thought about her during Newt's heat, strange as it was, when he fed Newt, carried him, held him until he slept. She was the last person he'd ever taken care of. The only one, until now.

Newt nuzzled Hannibal's neck. “I'm going to call my dad really quick, okay?” He pulled his phone from his pocket, and Hannibal reluctantly released him from his arms.

Newt dialed. “Hey, Papa!” he said cheerfully into the phone after a moment. “I'm doing great. How are you? How's Illia? Oh, yeah? Listen, I called because I have some big news to tell you.” Newt grinned, clearly excited, and Hannibal almost laughed at his enthusiasm. “I have a mate now.” 

Newt paused. “Yes, I'm serious. Not even kidding. A few days ago, I met my soulmate. Well, technically I met him one time before, but I was on my blockers still, and nothing happened, although I did think he was hot...but anyway, we ran into each other again and it was like _boom_ , just like they tell you. We just knew. Anyway, I had a heat—accidentally—and we're bonded now. I'm about to move in with him.” Another pause. Newt laughed. “Yeah, I'm very happy, Papa. He's great. I know it's sudden. I mean, seriously, did anyone expect this to happen to me?” 

Newt glanced over at Hannibal, suddenly looking awkward. “Well, his name is Hannibal. Unique, right? He's a little bit older than me...he's really big and tall, all Alpha-like, you know? He runs his own business actually. He makes products out of kaiju parts. Can you believe that? Perfect, right?” Newt smiled softly, looking down toward the phone. “Yeah, he's treating me nice, Papa. He's great. I'm freaking out a little, but it's great. Yeah, of course, I'll send you one tonight. Anyway, so you're doing okay? I didn't mean to take over the conversation with my awesome news. I'm glad. Well, I really have to go, because I'm actually moving out of the Shatterdome right now. I'll text you later. Okay, Papa. Bye. _Ich habe dich lieb_.”

Newt grinned as he hung up the phone. “He wants a picture of us together. I told him okay. Do you think you can get one of your workers to take one?” 

Hannibal grimaced. He really didn't like having his picture taken. He preferred to stay under the radar, and besides, he didn't like looking at his own ugly mug. But he looked at Newt's hopeful face and sighed. “Sure, baby.”

“Great. I think I'm pretty much ready now.” 

“I'll call a car.” 

Newt gave him an odd smile. “So you just do that all the time? Call a private car any time you want?”

“Yeah. It's convenient. I have a car of my own that I'll have to show you sometime. Purrs like a kitten, and that baby can fly. But I don't drive myself much.”

“You really are loaded, huh?”

“Why? You a gold digger?” Hannibal was joking. Looking through Newt's closet and room had made him realize just how little his mate cared about material possessions. It was actually pretty sad.

“Yes. I'm actually after your teeth. That's why I'm up in your mouth all the time.” Newt leaned up and gave Hannibal a smacking kiss on the lips, and Hannibal returned it. He had to force himself to pull away long enough to actually get his phone out and call the driver.

They passed the time until the car arrived by making out on Newt's pitiful PPDC-issue bed. Even though Newt's heat was over and they were both exhausted, Hannibal still found himself getting hard as Newt squirmed in his lap and sucked on his tongue. 

“God, you're literally taking my breath away,” Newt gasped after a few minutes of deep kissing. “This whole thing is so romance novel. I didn't think any of this shit was real.”

“Me neither.” Hannibal cut off further discussion by sucking on Newt's mating mark until he squealed.

The car company was fast, as always, and Hannibal got the call that the driver was waiting for them before they'd gotten any clothes off, although things seemed to be headed in that direction.

On the way through the Shatterdome halls, Newt was stopped repeatedly by various people telling him goodbye. Hannibal had to hold back a little surge of protective irritation every time a person he didn't know hugged his mate. To Newt's apparent relief, none of them said anything about the whole secret Omega thing, even though Hannibal caught several people staring at the fresh mark on Newt's neck.

They finally made it to the car, and the ride to Hannibal's apartment went as fast as could be expected in post-kaiju attack Hong Kong traffic.

Newt stared at Hannibal's apartment building when the driver pulled up to it. “I thought you might live at that place I've already been. Your headquarters or whatever.”

Hannibal shook his head. “Nah, it's not smart to let everyone you meet at work know where you live. Besides, this place is better, trust me.”

Hannibal was extremely satisfied by the look on Newt's face when the elevator doors opened to reveal his penthouse apartment.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Newt exclaimed, his mouth gaping open. “I feel like Will Smith.”

“What? The actor?” 

“You know, on Fresh Prince? When he moves to his uncle's mansion? Anyway, forget that. _This place is awesome!_ ”

Newt slowly walked around the living room, taking in the massive windows with their skyline view, the blood-red leather furniture, the thick Chinese rugs, and the gold chandelier hanging over the modern dining room table.

“Hey, you have a piano!” Newt exclaimed.

“Do you play?”

“I play excellently, dude. Well, I play pretty well. My dad is a musician. He's a jazz pianist, and he taught me a lot. I'll have to show you sometime. Can't say I've ever played a piano as pretty as that, though.” Newt looked admiringly at the white and gold Steinway grand.

“You can come put your stuff in the bedroom. There's plenty of room in my closet.” Newt followed him.

“That is the biggest fucking bed I've ever seen. Do you regularly host orgies or something?” Newt dropped his suitcase and ran to the bed, flinging himself across it. 

“Well, not _regularly_ ,” Hannibal replied coyly. Newt looked at him with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out if he was joking. Truthfully, his big bed had seen a threesome with two Betas once, but that was it. He just liked to have plenty of space.

Newt squirmed happily on the red silk comforter. “This is insanely comfortable.”

“Glad you like it, since it's yours now.” His mate laid across his own bed was somehow one of the sexiest things Hannibal had ever seen.

“It is mine. Sweet.” Newt scooted up the bed and laid his head on one of the throw pillows.

“You getting tired, baby?” 

“Well, I haven't had the optimal amount of sleep these past few days. Some guy kept me really busy.”

“Hey, I believe it was you keeping me busy. I seem to recall you begging me for more.”

Newt burrowed his face into the pillow. “Always want more from you. Gonna beg for more every day.”

Hannibal gave up on remaining upright and lay down behind Newt, spooning up to his back. “And I'll give it to you,” he whispered into his ear.

“You better.” Newt caught his hand and squeezed it, pressing it over his heart.

_I think I'd give you anything._


End file.
